


Foreign Soil

by AriTeir



Category: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Kid Fic, but in a more roundabout way, shows up 20 years late to the fandom with Starbucks, tagging is not my strongsuit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23749993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriTeir/pseuds/AriTeir
Summary: Foreign soil is where some flowers grow best
Relationships: Diana (Wonder Woman)/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 48
Kudos: 265





	1. Chapter One

Some lockdown huh? Fortunately being stuck at home has allowed me to uncover all my old fanfic journals and the time on my hands has allowed me to rewrite their contents into something a little more legible than my 15 year old self was capable of. I hope.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or any of their associated characters

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He didn’t have a contingency plan for this. 

A fact that was only slightly less disturbing than the infant currently lying on the Batcave floor. They were tightly swaddled in something red and asleep, so thank heaven for small mercies.

“And they just appeared?” The Batman; he hadn’t had time to don the suit but it was all in the demeanour turned to his butler, who was hovering nervously. Obviously loath to leave a baby on the floor of a cave but also well aware that anything that appeared from seemingly nowhere shouldn’t be picked up.

“Yes exactly as I said Sir there was a wall of black and yellow light and then they were just there. I’ve reviewed the incident on the computer yet I still can’t make heads or tails of it”  
Alfred had obviously had to find something to do in the time it took Bruce to receive his emergency message and make his excuses at Wayne Enterprises; in the Batmobile he could make it from Gotham to the Manor in minutes, in civilian traffic he was lucky to make it within an hour. That was a long time to leave a baby on a cave floor. Which Alfred proved handing Bruce a tablet littered with various stats.  
“I ran as many tests as I could Sir, no doubt you’ll wish to run them again but they seem to be an ordinary infant”

He would run the tests again, not that he didn’t trust Alfred. But first; Bruce approached the Bat computer. The relevant security footage was queued up ready to be played. It was exactly as Alfred said; a wall of black interspersed with a repeating band of yellow light blunk into existence in the middle of the cave, the child came through it and then it vanished as though it had never been there.  
Not a Boom Tube but certainly a portal of some kind. Where had he seen a portal of black and yellow light before? Bruce’s brain slammed to an abrupt halt as he remembered.

Them. 

He plucked the infant from the floor in as close to a panic as he ever allowed himself to be; they didn’t so much as stir and he knew they’d been drugged.  
Knew because if he were going to send a baby to another dimension he would knock them out for the goodbyes too. 

It wasn’t a blanket they’d been swaddled in but something thicker and woollen; a coat he realised as he began hastily unwrapping them.  
“Master Bruce, what...?” He tossed the coat to Alfred, who expertly caught it.  
“This is; this was your Mother’s. Chanel if I remember, it’s packed away upstairs, how...?”  
Out of the coat the baby was still well bundled but he could make out more now. A round face; unremarkable at first glance but he could see hints of the structure it would come to have with age and it was familiar, as was the nose. And neither was his. A sprinkling of freckles like the ones he’d grown out of interrupted porcelain skin; he’d always been fair, long before his lifestyle kept him away from the sunlight. Hair was little more than dark tufts with noticeable curls but then it would be wouldn’t it? And though the eyes remained closed he knew that when they finally did open they would be blue.

After four layers of random clothing and other remnants of fabric Bruce came upon two things; a final layer of a tattered pink onesie and resting on top of that a small hard-drive. Still not allowing himself to panic Bruce placed the, if the onesie was anything to go by girl, in an evidence bin and set about connecting the hard-drive.  
“I really must protest...” Alfred began, he stopped when Bruce’s image came up on the main screen. 

However many years it had been for his interdimensional counterpart they hadn’t been kind. His face was gaunt and scarred where the cowl had been unable to protect it; the wrinkles Bruce had begun to notice on his own face were pronounced and harsh. He was in the cave, or the cave were it ever to cave in. Shafts of light shone down upon rubble and butchered electronics. Snow appeared to be drifting down from somewhere above.

“Bet you didn’t think you’d be hearing from me again” Lord Batman said; then pleasantries over,  
“Her name is Martha, she responds only to ‘Essie’. Age nine months, two weeks, three days. In case our timelines don’t quite add up, birthday April 18. I’ve included her medical records and the results to every test you’ll think to run. There’s a video for her when she’s older, if she remembers us. Show it to her, or don’t.” He broke off with a heavy defeated sigh.  
“When she asks, if she asks tell her we made a mistake and we paid for it but children shouldn’t pay for their parents sins. If you can’t raise her yourself give her to the Amazons, perhaps in your dimension they’ll accept her. I’ve destroyed the portal at this end. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done but there’s nothing for her here. She’s all we had left and she deserves better. You’d do the same”

“My word was that...?”  
Bruce didn’t wait for his butler to finish he put a finger to his ear and activated his comm link on two specific channels.  
“Come to the cave. Now”  
He hung up and had only just transferred what were looking to be the results to every test he could think to run to the tablet Alfred had handed him with it’s own list of results when Superman touched down.  
“I thought bats were nocturnal, what’s going o...is that a baby?”  
“What does it look like?”  
When his host didn’t so much as glance away from the screen he held Clark turned to Alfred who merely blinked and decided now would be the best time to fetch some tea and see about digging Master Bruce’s baby things out of storage.

Diana materialised moments later.  
“I came as soon as I could what’s the emergency?”  
“Shhh you’ll wake the baby” Clark told her  
“No you won’t she’s been sedated” Bruce said  
Diana wasn’t sure what she should be more confused over; the fact that there was a baby or that it was sedated. In the end she settled on the sedation. Many people had babies, very few sedated them.  
“You drugged a baby?”  
“Not me per se”  
She opened her mouth to ask then who per se when Clark held up a hand to stop her.  
“Maybe you should tell us everything from the beginning Bruce”

So he did. Starting with the emergency call from Alfred, the man himself appeared at this point to distribute refreshments and inform his employer he was not lugging an antique crib down into a cave so if he would please be the first to know when the child was clear to leave the evidence bin. He’d vanished by the time Lord Batman’s image once again filled the main screen. Clark and Diana remained silent throughout his message only speaking once the video had ended.

“The Amazons, why the Amazons?” Diana asked  
“Because according to this she’s your daughter too Princess” Bruce indicated the results of the DNA test his counterpart had provided on the tablet.  
“That’s impossible”  
“It’s unlikely. I’ll run the test again”  
“Don’t bother, she’s a match” Clark interrupted looking intently at the baby; Essie Bruce supposed he’d better get used to calling her.  
“Congratulations I guess?” The Kryptonian offered with a shrug of his massive shoulders.  
“That’s impossible” Diana repeated  
“She’s a match Diana, I’m looking at her DNA right now. She’s on the right frequency for their universe” Clark turned to Bruce  
“Frequency?”  
“It’s hard to explain. All things vibrate; have a rhythm of sorts. Different dimensions have different rhythms. I can see it when I know what to look for. She matches the frequency of the Lords dimension”  
“That’s impossible” Diana said yet again  
“It’s true Wally can see it too, well in his case I guess it’s more of a feeling thing”  
“No you don’t understand she can’t be my daughter”  
“The results don’t lie Princess. She’s your child, our child. Their child.”  
“She can’t be”  
“Why not?”  
“Because I can’t have children!” Diana cried. 

She flinched at the looks Bruce and Clark threw at her outburst. Concern featured on each of their faces. Clark’s held a touch of pity while Bruce seemed annoyed he didn’t already know that. Perhaps of he had allowed their flirtation to go anywhere he would.  
“My Mother sculpted me from clay” She said when she couldn’t stand it any more.  
“That doesn’t mean...”  
“All of me Bruce, down to my bones. She never bothered sculpting me a womb, she never expected me to need one”  
“Well?”Bruce turned to Clark  
“Well what?”  
“Is she telling the truth?”  
“I’m not going to use my X-ray vision to...”  
“You doubt me!” Diana was before Bruce in what barely qualified as the blink of an eye fists clenched. It was at this inopportune moment Essie decided to rouse. 

She didn’t cry and flail so much as struggle to move her limbs and when they clumsily met with the plastic of the evidence bin a low whine began in the back of her throat. Eyes, blue as Bruce had predicted but closer to Diana’s sky like shade than his own icy one opened. They drifted shut moments later as she wasn't quite up to full consciousness yet. But the whine continued punctured now with little hiccupy gasps as she kept trying to get her arms and legs to work.

Clark, boyscout that he was cracked first. Plucking Essie from the evidence bin and cradling her expertly.  
“Hey now, hey now. You’re safe here” He all but cooed. Whatever the desired effect it wasn’t achieved as upon hearing his voice Essie began to struggle as much as she was able to. Her whine likewise escalated to a piercing cry. Clark tried rocking, bouncing and shushing all to no avail. In the end he stood there holding Essie like a bewildered statue until Diana took pity on him. Surprisingly her cries died down the moment she was in the Amazons considerably less than expert arms, returning to a gurgling whine as she overcame her sedation.

“I don’t understand that always quietened Van down...” Clark stopped speaking abruptly and closed his eyes like he was trying to shut something unpleasant out. Bruce decided not to pry. Instead he called Alfred to inform him Essie was clear to leave the evidence bin. Her whine had turned into displeased huffs by the time the manservant made it back down.  
“I’ve yet to finish airing out the nursery but I’ve set the crib up in Master Dick’s room, should he come to stay I’m afraid he’ll have to make do with the guest suite” He explained. Diana didn’t need to ask why Essie couldn’t simply sleep in the guest suite herself; that was where she had stayed after the watchtower was destroyed in the Thanagarian invasion, she knew it was in a completely different wing to the families rooms. Instead she held the child she was desperately trying to tell herself did not have her nose to Alfred who took her primly. 

The minute she left Diana’s arms however Essie once again began crying and her attempts at flailing were getting better. Frowning Bruce approached.  
“Give her to me” He ordered. Alfred obliged and just as she had for Diana Essie calmed down.  
“Fussy little thing isn’t she? Gets that from you I’m afraid” He commented.  
“I think she did. Diana take her” Bruce handed the once more snuffling with displeasure infant to her ‘mother’ and noted that she remained at her sedation induced level of discomfort.  
“Now give her to Clark” He instructed  
“Oh I really don’t think that’s...”  
“Take the baby Kent”  
He did and as predicted the instant she was in his arms she began screaming blue murder. Fortunately Clark being Superman meant none of her now actual flailing did any damage.  
“I told you!” Clark yelled over the noise. But Bruce just watched calculating and probably would have remained that way for a further few minutes if Essie hadn’t regained the ability to keep her eyes open.  
“Da!” She cried spotting him stretching her arms out desperately.  
“Da! Da! Da!” Fat tears rolled down chubby cheeks from terrified blue eyes and just like his teammates before him Bruce reached his breaking point. He scooped Essie out of Clark’s arms.

“I don’t think she likes you” Diana said mildly once Essie had quietened down again.  
“I’m just out of practise. I haven’t held any babies in a while” Clark’s tone was almost light but it didn’t fool Bruce or Diana. Whatever he was thinking about had nothing to do with the many children parents would thrust into Superman’s arms for photo’s.  
“It’s more likely she hasn’t been exposed to anyone other than myself and Diana” Bruce said. Essie was still crying but her tears were somehow an altogether more heartbreaking silent. Despite being in her ‘father’s’ arms she was scared.  
“No one else? Not even the other Lords or Alfred?” Diana asked  
“I believe our counterparts found themselves alone, possibly even hunted by the others; he did betray them after all” Bruce took a deep breath  
“And I believe he disposed of Alfred long before they ever made contact with us”  
“Well I should bloody well hope so” All eyes snapped to the Butler  
“Allow me to assure you Master Bruce that should you desire to go down the path of your interdimensional self you would do so over my dead body”  
Neither Diana nor Clark could quite decipher the smile servant and master shared at that.

“In any case it leaves us with a problem” Bruce glanced down at the no longer crying but clearly no less afraid in the presence of strangers child he held. Wordlessly he held her out to Diana who merely raised a regal eyebrow at him.  
“Why should I take her?”  
“We’re the only ones she feels safe with and I have to go over her files. You didn’t have any issues mothering Etrigan”  
“We were seven and Etrigan wasn’t my alleged daughter. Why don’t you hold her and I’ll go over the files”  
“I’ll get through it quicker” Bruce gave a smirk and adjusted Essie so he could bring the list of test results up on the main screen. Not that Diana or Clark would be able to tell that’s what they were, only members of the Batclan would be able to decipher the shorthand they were written in. Rolling her eyes and muttering something about paranoid bats Diana took Essie and held her awkwardly. Aware all of a sudden of just how hard and sharp several parts of her armour were and how they all seemed to be exactly where a baby would be most comfortable being held. Alfred seemed to realise this dilemma too  
“Do follow me Your Highness I believe I can find something upstairs for you to change into” He offered. 

Diana followed him upstairs leaving Bruce and Clark in the cave. The former had begun making, as promised short work of the files his counterpart had provided; the latter watched him for several moments before saying;  
“Now what?”  
Bruce paused his reading to regard the Man of Steel blankly.  
“What do you mean now what?”  
“Well what’s in the protocols for this?”  
“There are no protocols for this. Why would I have protocols for this?”  
“I thought you had protocols for everything”  
“Why would I even dream of an alternate version of myself having a child with Diana, rebuilding the portal that connects our dimensions and sending her through it? Please enlighten me as to the steps I could have possibly taken to prepare for this!”  
Realising he was witnessing what amounted to a breakdown Clark took a deep breath  
“It’s going to be OK Bruce”  
“Oh it is is it? You finally add future sight to your collection? Well thanks for the heads up Clark. Can you tell me where Poison Ivy’s going to strike next while you’re at it? Or is this newfound ability of yours only good for vague reassurance?” Bruce snapped.  
“You need to calm down”  
Bruce laughed, not his careless playboy giggle or the low chuckle he would sometimes employ as Batman but a strung out, eerie and disjointed sound.  
“Well thank you Dr Kent for that grand insight I’ll be sure to get right on that. Right after I get done drafting the protocols for having interdimensional daughters dumped on me. You want me to draw up a set for you while I’m at it? Maybe your other self finally let Lois out of that apartment.” Bruce’s tone was acid and Clark wasn’t as immune to it as he was the real thing. Still he drew on his years of experience dealing with the Dark Knights thornier side before he spoke again.  
“I mean it. You’re no good to anyone like this and you know it”

Bruce glared and Clark swore he could see a thousand acerbic remarks flying like bats through his mind ready to be unleashed.  
But they weren’t; Bruce kept his mouth firmly closed and Clark heard his heartbeat forcibly return to it’s usual rhythm. Though he suspected if he were to take a close enough peek at his bloodstream he’d see the adrenaline running through it.  
“So now what?” He asked again  
“I have no idea” Bruce said all the bite had trickled out of the bat leaving him sounding tired.  
“I don’t have a single plan for this. Would you believe I don’t even have a plan regarding any non interdimensional children?”  
“Not after reading what your playboy act gets up to”  
Bruce gave a shaky though not entirely un sardonic smile at that  
“Says something about our lives that this happened before that doesn’t it?”  
“I think the fact we’re discussing this like it’s sane says more”  
Bruce allowed himself a proper smile at that and then just when Clark thought they had finally reached their daily quota of unexpected for the day Bruce asked a question  
“What do you think I should do?”  
“You’re asking me for my advice?”  
“Well you’re the one with experience here”  
“Experience? How do you figure?”  
“Supergirl”

The name bought back memories; happy but poignant of a time when Superman hadn’t been alone in the universe, when Krypton had had a last daughter as well as son. It wasn’t that Clark tried to avoid remembering the years he had been able to spend with his cousin, he just found that memories tended to lead into thinking about where Kara was now and that was the hard part. The knowledge that whatever happened in her life he would never know. He liked to think she was happy in the future even if it was with a version of Brainiac. Maybe they even had children of their own by now. That wasn’t such a bad thought; the idea that there were Kryptonians somewhere in the future instead of just the past. He snuck a glance at the evidence bin that had held Essie with just a touch of superspeed to ensure Bruce wouldn’t be able to notice before he spoke again.

“It wasn’t the same with Kara, she was already a teenager when I found her. It was easy for her to fit into Clark Kent’s life; a crash course in English and Ma and Pa telling everyone they’d been looking into becoming foster parents and that was that. And Smallville folks aren’t nearly as nosy as the gossip writers who tail Bruce Wayne. I should know”  
“Not as bloodthirsty either”  
“All I know is you can’t decide anything by yourself here Bruce, she’s Diana’s daughter too”  
“She’s neither of ours daughter. She’s the child of tyrants” The iron was back in Bruce’s voice  
“That’s not her fault.”

Bruce was silent at that. His own gaze drifted to the empty evidence bin, then to the discarded clothing he had unwrapped Essie from. It was designer, he could tell that without having to check labels; off the rack though, no Alfred to tailor his mind supplied without prompting and absolutely ragged. Shirts, tuxedo jackets, dresses. Bruce recognised one scrap that wasn’t clothing at all but instead matched his bedroom curtains. He remembered the snow in the video drifting down to cover the remains of the cave and knew the only way the cave would ever be open to the elements like that was if there were no manor above it. His and Diana’s other selves had gone to whatever lengths they could to keep their daughter warm. They had gone even further to keep her safe  
.

And now he was forced to consider if he really would do the same.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Story notes  
What’s in a name: Now some of you may be wondering just how you get the nickname ‘Essie’ from Martha. It’s no secret that members of the Batclan refer to eachother with codenames beyond their alter ego’s their most common one is to call eachother by their initials so Batman becomes ‘B’. Essie is derived from the initials ‘S.C’ which in turn stand for ‘Sara Crewe’ who the more literary minded among you will recognise as the main character from Frances Hodgson Burnett’s novel ‘A Little Princess’.

Never forgetting: In the episode ‘For the Man who has Everything’ Superman spends a day in his own ideal world where he has a son ‘Van El’ and is forced to give it all up to return to reality. But I imagine that’s the sort of thing that stays with a person and he still remembers being a father.

Home is where the heart is: When Batman used the Watchtower to destroy the Thanagarian generator in ‘Starcrossed’ he rendered both Diana and J’onn homeless. Where they actually stayed until the new Watchtower was built we may never know and while I personally like to believe J’onn got to spend more time with the Kents I know all us Wonderbat shippers like to think Diana stayed at Wayne Manor.

All around to the Kents: In the Superman episode ‘Little Girl Lost’ Clark finds his cousin Kara in stasis on the Kryponian colony of Argo and takes her to earth where she proceeds to become Supergirl and get sick of all the time she’s forced to spend down on the farm. In another episode ‘Unity’ Martha and Jonathan are referred to as her foster parents.  
  
That’s all for now. Please let me know what you thought, I accept criticism of my work but ask that it be constructive  
Ari Out!


	2. Chapter 2

Diana of Themyscira was used to the unexpected. 

As a superhero it was an occupational hazard; there was never any telling just where any given day might end up. In her career as Wonder Woman she had been to Hell, several alien worlds and more alternate timelines and dimensions than she cared to count; turned into a pig, turned into an ape and on one memorable occasion a 7 year old.

This however was something completely new. This went beyond unexpected and into ludicrous territory. This was quite frankly unbelievable. 

This also didn’t want to be put down so she could change into the matching sweatshirt and pants Alfred had provided. 

They sat neatly folded on the bed before her, Dick’s bed. The exquisitely carved crib that now sat beside it had let Diana in immediately as to who’s room she had been shown to. Along with a few Haly’s circus posters still stuck to the walls. While she hadn’t seen Alfred procure her borrowed clothing directly from the dresser she suspected they were Dick’s too; the closest match to her own physique the Manor could provide. Not that they were doing her much good as she was unable to put them on. She stood before the bed holding Essie in a fashion she was certain was in no way comfortable yet any movement she made that might so much as suggest she was going to relinquish her hold would set her off.

Diana made to sit on the bed and at the movement Essie’s eyes snapped to hers bewilderedly as she tried to determine whether she was about to be let go. Seeing her own eyes play host to Bruce’s calculating gaze was downright unnerving.  
“You have to let me change” She told her. Essie couldn’t say anything to that but her eyes clearly stated she intended to do no such thing. They held a stubborn glint that could have been procured from either of her parents. Diana met the mirror of her eyes and steeled herself no less than she would for battle. 

The second she moved to lower Essie into the waiting crib she began to shriek and twist as much as Diana’s hold would allow but the Amazon princess remained undeterred in her mission. She placed Essie firmly in the crib and though she winced as the infant somehow found a new level of volume to cry at and began to flail; tiny hands beating with all the coordination her age could provide against antique oak, Diana remained set on her course. She removed the armour from her uniform with the exception of her bracers and took off her boots before pulling on the borrowed sweatsuit as quickly as she could. There were some things that just couldn’t be spun into.

She scooped Essie up as soon as she was done and as always her cries ceased almost the instant she was held. It made Diana frown. She couldn’t claim to know much or anything really about children but she was certain it wasn’t normal for a baby to cry whenever not being held. It also made her wonder; had Essie been held constantly by her and Bruce’s counterparts? Her behaviour approached what could be considered conditioning, had that been the case? Had she been trained to distrust anything and anyone unfamiliar, to feel safe only in her parents arms. What sort of circumstances had led that other Bruce and Diana to raise their daughter so? Whatever they had been had clearly been enough for them to eventually decide she would be better off among strangers than with them.

Diana couldn’t imagine sending her child away to another dimension, even if she knew another version of herself waited there. But then she couldn’t imagine having a child at all. 

It wasn’t the sort of thing it did for an Amazon to linger on. They had had children once Diana knew. Before they had been granted immortality and hidden from the world of Man. But from all the accounts Diana had heard they had been rather Spartan about the whole affair, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say the Spartans had been rather Amazonian. There was little time or tolerance for sentimentality with boy children returned to their fathers and girls put into training as soon as they could hold a wooden sword. Their time without children since Themyscira’s removal from the world to Diana’s ‘birth’ had mellowed many enough to regret the wasted time with their own daughters allowing her own childhood to be filled with a level of doting no other Amazon had experienced but others had still scoffed at their Queen’s decision to bring her little clay doll to life.

She had had a paradoxically lonely childhood. Surrounded and adored by hundreds of ‘sisters’ yet with no age mates or anyone else in the world like her. Adults aplenty to care and coddle but no one to play and share with. Diana glanced down at the child she held  
“Perhaps you understand that” She said.  
Essie’s only response was to raise a tiny hand, clench a fist and release it.  
“Maybe not”  
That gained little more than a repeat of the same motion and then another one accompanied by a little huff. Diana tilted her head in confusion as Essie continued to open and close her fist with growing frustration. Her confusion evaporated when Essie began to whine and nudged her face firmly against her breast as a little hand stretched out to tug unsuccessfully at her sweatshirt. Diana didn’t know much about babies but she certainly knew how they were fed.  
“I’m sorry Little Sister I have nothing to give you” She said and realising she wasn’t getting anywhere Essie once again began to cry

Diana envied her. 

Being entitled to a free reign of your emotions was an attractive position at the moment. Scared? Confused? Frustrated? Or even just hungry? No one could blame a baby for crying over any of those things. Adults however were expected to show composure even if they felt the exact same. Princesses even more so. Summoning a mask of serenity and settling her shoulders with poise like she had been trained since childhood, lest no one ever suspect she was envious of a baby (Bruce would know the moment he saw her, he always seemed to know exactly what she was thinking and it never failed to both impress and infuriate her) Diana left Dick’s room and made her way to the kitchen where she knew Alfred would be. She took the servants passages where she could as she had when she lived at the Manor, saving herself a trip though the grand halls and reception rooms Diana knew barely saw any use. Essie seemed to prefer the narrow servants hallways herself, shrinking into Diana’s chest when presented with anything wider than a meter with wary eyes and a noticeable dip in the volume of her cries.

By the time Diana had made it to the kitchen the time in unfamiliar and open surroundings had led Essie to lower her cries to a sulky grizzle as she continued to alternately try tugging at her sweatshirt and make the same clenching motion with her fist.  
“Alfred....”Diana began as she entered the kitchen she stopped short at the sight that greeted her. The kitchen was the heart of Wayne Manor, a title that lost some significance when the fact it was the only space that received continual and consistent use from all it’s residents was considered. A long and broad room that had not forgotten it was meant to house a full staff serving a full household it was Alfred’s domain no less than the cave below was Batman’s and it was to his eternal credit that he had reined the space into a welcoming sanctuary rather than allowing it to be a lonely testament to what no longer was. The fittings and appliances were original where it counted, modern where Alfred insisted and all completely spotless. Or at least they had been the last time Diana had seen them. Now every surface from the antique wooden island to the table in the dining nook; Bruce’s preferred dining spot on the rare occasion he could be made to eat anywhere that wasn’t in front of a screen and even the black and white tiled floor were piled high with boxes and shopping bags.  
“Do excuse the mess Your Highness” Said an Alfred shaped shadow from behind a wall of cardboard.  
“What is all this?”  
“The bags are courtesy of Mr Kent, while you were indisposed he was kind enough to undertake a supply run. Everything else is out of storage”

Diana peeked into the bag nearest her and was greeted by a stack of neatly folded baby clothes; a glance at Essie’s ragged attire assured they hadn’t come a moment too soon.  
“How far did he go?” The receipt on top wasn’t in English and the prices were given in Euros.  
“I didn’t ask no doubt the bank will inform us when they call to report the suspicious card activity” Alfred stepped primly out from behind the wall holding a silver rattle.  
“Fortunately Master Bruce is well versed in writing off unusual purchases by now”  
The tinkling sound the rattle gave at the motion drew Essie’s eyes to it with considerably less suspicion than they usually held, in fact she almost looked interested. But it wasn’t enough to distract her for long and she quickly returned to whining and making the same strange hand movement.  
“Someone’s disposition has not improved I see”  
“She’s hungry Alfred I don’t know what to do” Diana couldn’t keep a note of panic from entering her voice. She briefly considered shoving Essie into the manservant's arms and running. To where she wasn’t quite sure, yesterday perhaps before any of the strange events of today had taken place and the world still made it’s usual brand of sense. 

Hera she felt like she was drowning. 

Fortunately Alfred had many years of experience as a lighthouse to those cast adrift in the vast sea of circumstance.  
“Feed her I should think” He said unflappable as ever as he manoeuvred his way through the maze of boxes that had taken over the kitchen. He procured a tea kettle and filled it setting it on the gas hob to boil.  
“I believe the formula is in the bag on the table if you would be so kind Your Highness”  
Grateful to be given any form of direction Diana took to the air and floated over numerous bags to the dining nook, the motion silenced Essie for a brief moment as she seemed to weigh up the safe familiarity of her mother’s arms against her well trained terror of the unknown. Diana’s feet were back on the ground before she could decide whether she was scared or not. Diana almost started down the path of wondering why she would find flight unfamiliar before she remembered her other self had been stripped of her abilities. The bag contained 3 large cheerfully coloured tins all bragging about their nutritional completeness and that they were products of New Zealand.  
“He went all the way to New Zealand for baby formula?” Diana floated across to Alfred with a tin taking care to land before Essie had a chance to make her mind up about the unfamiliarity of flight.  
“Mr Kent made mention of them possessing the best dairy. I find myself inclined to believe him given his background; he seemed rather pained to admit it” Alfred sported a wry smile as he took the offered tin and read the instructions with a careful eye, long used to skimming the maximum amount of information in the shortest amount of time. 

Batman had sought out and been trained by the best in the world in disciplines ranging from the martial arts and gymnastics to escape artistry and slight of hand but whatever he had pursued Diana had come to believe that being raised by Alfred had given him a head start with an invaluable knowledge of how to move. Watching the butler preform even the most basic of tasks was like watching a carefully choreographed ballet. Preparing baby formula was no different. He removed the kettle to a waiting pot rest the second it began to boil before rolling his sleeves up and scrubbing his hands as a surgeon would. Drying them with a clean tea towel he opened the tin of formula and scooped out a cup of powder which was expertly levelled with a pristine knife and set down on an equally pristine cutting board. The kettle was retrieved as was a baby bottle. Water was poured, the perfectly level scoop of formula was added and then swirled until it dissolved. Finally a lid was screwed on, three drops were squeezed onto an exposed wrist and with a nod of satisfaction Alfred held the bottle out to Diana.  
“Here we are”

Diana took the bottle from him and stared hardly believing it was her own hand she saw holding it. She registered the bottle and that it was in _a_ hand. She saw that that hand extended into a silver clad wrist, _her_ wrist. But something prevented her from adding the two together correctly. She stood amidst the boxes and bags that had taken over Wayne Manor’s kitchen as though the prayer that had given her life had never been uttered. The full width and breadth of the days events settled across her shoulders as the heavens did across Atlas’s no less weighty or salient. She had received Bruce’s transmission over an hours ago and had been cradling the child all available evidence said was her daughter for most of that time. She had carried her, spoken to her, comforted her simply through the act of being there but none of that was the same as what she was now expected to do. 

Made of dishwasher safe plastic and decorated with cartoon lambs and ducklings the bottle was a linchpin. So long as it was held and nothing else in that hand that couldn’t possibly be hers the world would remain in equilibrium. The baby would be held, the bottle would be held, Bruce would emerge from the cave with a solution as he always did and then no more bottle, no more baby. Dry land. But if the bottle was not just held in that hand that couldn’t possibly be hers, if it were pressed to a hungry little mouth, if it were drunk from that would be it. Open water. 

If there was one thing her religion had taught her it was that what was eaten could not be uneaten, what was drunk could not be undrunk.

What was cared for could not be uncared for. 

But if caring were the key then Diana knew her fate was sealed six seeds short of a pomegranate. Because the simple, undeniable truth was she could never not care. She could pretend not to for all the good it ever did as no one ever believed she was as unaffected as she said and the fact that of the whole League hers was the heart that saw the most sleeve time was well known. But even then there was always only so long she could keep it up, she was and always had been a truly terrible liar especially to herself. And now holding a bottle in what was definitely her hand Diana realised that after hours worth of internal denial she had arrived at the truth. The truth was it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter where the child she held came from, it didn’t matter who her parents were or what they had done. What did matter she was here now and she needed someone to care for her. Diana looked down at Essie, her hunger was starting to outweigh her desire to remain as silent as possible in her new surroundings and she was still opening and closing her fist with clear frustration. Well it would hardly be the first time her incapacity for indifference had changed her life irreversibly. She lowered the bottle to that angry little mouth and the world tilted under her feet as it latched on and Essie began to suckle greedily. 

The world righted itself again and in the aftermath Diana found she had not been cast adrift but rather had landed sure footed on an unknown shore. And as she had all the other times she arrived on such a frontier she discovered that the unknown and unfamiliar wasn’t all that frightening

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Story Notes

How even: Diana gets turned into other things way more than any other Justice League member but one thing that always confused me was how in 'Dead Reckoning' Superman got turned into an Ape too after Grodd had specifically said the beam would rewrite Human DNA. He should've been fine!

Hands on: The motion Essie keeps repeating is 'milk' in american baby sign language.

How even part 2: In 'A Better World' the Justice Lords are defeated by a depower ray built by Lex Luthor and just....how? They all have completely different abilities stemming from completely different places, how can one ray render them all inert at once? Even for a cartoon based on a comic book that's pushing it.

New Zealand dairy is best dairy: You might think I'm shamelessly plugging my countries baby formula and wondering why that would even be a thing but you don't even know the half of it! You can buy it duty free from stores in our international airports, supermarkets put limits on how much you can buy at once because tourists were just buying shelves worth to send back home. What i'm saying is when it comes to baby formula NZ's got the good shit.

Atlas shrugged just not what you think: Despite the common and widespread misconception Atlas was not punished by holding the earth on his shoulders. Instead according to Greek mythology he was made to hold up the sky.  
Six seeds: I think we're all familiar with the Greek Myth of Persephone, a certain fruit and the eating thereof  
  
Anyway that's chapter 2! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!  
I'd love to hear what you thought as always I accept criticism of my work but ask that it be constructive  
Ari out!


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce knew he was used to entering and exiting the cave under the cover of darkness but as he emerged with Essie’s well gone over and translated files he couldn’t help but notice the library seemed brighter somehow. Maybe it was the hour; afternoon sunlight crept over the shelves and books and watery though winter made it it was still strong enough to cast a golden glow. Maybe Alfred had been through dusting and polishing recently, the curio cabinets did seem to have more of a taken care of aura than usual. Maybe this was what his house always looked like at godly hours and he had just forgotten. 

He doubted it. 

It had to be a trick of the light. 

But that didn’t explain how the sunless hallway outside the library felt brighter too and how the yawning emptiness that made up most of the manor didn’t seem to stretch as far as usual. Bruce was as aware of that emptiness as he was the physical brick and mortar. Having it filled even partially threw off his spacial awareness and left him feeling unbalanced. Although he might just be shifting blame for the days events in general. 

He had gone through and over everything, from the results to the tests Alfred had run to every file his other self had provided twice. The stats sat in the shelves of his mind carefully labelled and ordered, ready as was every other piece of information stored there to be grasped and bought forth at a moments notice.

He was used to holding all the facts, stats and information like a gambler held a winning hand and in his line of work, which was always a gamble, that’s what facts, stats and information were. But it was different this time. This time while he held the facts, stats and information in his mind what they came from was being physically held somewhere in his house. It was making compartmentalisation tough and created a gap in his thinking that he didn’t know how to fill

He didn’t know what to do. There were plenty of things he could do. A slightly lesser amount of things he should. A very set list of things he absolutely wouldn’t. And over everything were Clark’s words that no matter what it wasn’t his decision alone to make. 

Well he certainly couldn’t do anything standing in a hallway. So as the lost and scattered members of Wayne Manor often did Bruce made his way to the kitchen. 

It wasn’t just the library or the hallway, every room he passed through seemed brighter and more open but instead of lifting his spirits any all it did was add to his disorientation. A feeling that culminated when he entered the kitchen to find both Diana and Alfred sitting at the dining nook sharing a cup of tea. 

That in and of itself was nothing strange. They had often done the same when Diana had stayed at the Manor. On more than one occasion he had returned from patrol to find Diana had joined Alfred in waiting up for him. Other times would simply find the pair seeking companionship in the once place in the Manor it could always be found. 

But there were some key differences in the scene that was laid out before him now. The half unpacked boxes and shopping bags that had taken over every available space were one. How much had Clark bought? Bruce had explicitly told him essentials only yet it looked like he had purchased half a baby store. Next there was Essie sitting on Diana’s lap and engrossed in shaking a silver rattle that chimed across the room. Finally there was the panda.

Moth-eaten from the tips of his well chewed ears to his threadbare feet with a faded blue ribbon around his neck, he sat on the table next to a plate of biscuits. A well loved companion of yesteryear who’s sorry state was due only to Bruce’s childhood refusal to be parted from him. He had been chewed and drooled on, dragged through early unsteady steps and carted everywhere once he found the trick and was able to walk on his own. Up and down the Manor’s hallways and staircases. Through the gardens rain, snow or shine. He’d been outgrown eventually of course and kept tucked away in his room to be cuddled only at night until not even he, his earliest most beloved friend could keep the nightmares away. 

“Ah Master Bruce, I was just telling Her Highness about Winston here’s remarkable recovery” Alfred said spotting him lingering in the doorway.   
“I was under the impression childhood toys had cutesy names, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised yours was so formal” There was amusement in both Diana’s eyes and tone. They seemed to be unaware of both Essie’s presence and the soft tinkling that resounded from the rattle; or more likely and frightening had made their peace with her existence. Neither Dick nor Tim had made a habit of dragging animals home so Bruce had no clue how he was supposed to give the ‘We can’t keep it’ speech to his butler. But he also didn’t know if he wanted to give that speech at all. He didn’t like not knowing.   
“I didn’t name him, Alfred did” He said to say something.  
That caused Diana to turn her attention back to the butler with interest.  
“So why Winston?” She asked  
“Because” Bruce made his way to the table and effected Alfred’s accent and cadence as he mimicked an oft heard phrase of his childhood  
“That bear has been in the wars”  
Diana clearly knew enough of the history of Man’s World’s to understand the reference because she laughed. Bruce didn’t even try to stop the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth at the sound.

“And this remarkable recovery?” She put her teacup down and reached a hand out to the bear to inspect it for any damage beyond it’s obvious thread-bareness.  
“Here” Bruce knew she wouldn’t find any without being told where to look. He hooked a thumb under the ribbon and pulled it back. It took a moment to spot what he was looking for but when he did he pointed to an almost invisible knot of thread.  
“When I was 4 I somehow got his head wedged in the third floor’s banister”  
“And rather than get an adult he tried to pry him loose himself and ripped poor Winston’s head clean off” Alfred said picking the story up  
“No!” Diana looked between the two men looking appropriately shocked though still not entirely unamused  
“You never heard such a racket! Mr and Mrs Wayne were beside themselves; we all thought he must have fallen down the stairs or was trapped under a bookcase somewhere grievously injured. Well we eventually found Master Bruce completely unharmed yet utterly inconsolable on the third floor with a decapitated bear.”  
“Poor Winston”   
“Poor Winston indeed” Bruce took a biscuit to do something.  
“I take it you repaired him Alfred?”  
“No, not I” Alfred shook his head  
“My Father did”  
The humour that had thus far carried Diana, keeping her mouth quirked and her eyes sparkling faltered as she realised she was now treading on sacred ground. For a moment the only sound was the chiming of the silver rattle as Essie shook it.  
“He was a surgeon, good with a needle” Bruce explained. 

His memory of the incident was incomplete and muddied by what over the years had become a favourite story of his parents, broken out whenever they had cause to tell about the time he had given them ‘the fright of their lives’. He couldn’t separate what he actually remembered from what he had been told had happened. But all the same there was an autumn afternoon spent in his Father’s study, kneeling on a Victorian chair so he could see over his behemoth of a desk and watch him work sewing a bear back together that was forever treasured in the vault of his memory.

“Afterwards my Mother wrapped him in bandages and told me he had to spend a week in the conservatory recovering. I think she just wanted to get him away from me long enough to wash him”  
That was another memory influenced by an outside narrative. The story of Winston’s decapitation always ended with him trudging to the conservatory each day to check on him until he was deemed well enough to be released back into his care. Bruce had no personal recollection of making the trip even though he could remember a bandaged panda propped up on a wicker chair. 

“I wish I had a story of my own to share” Diana said offering up a tidbit of her youth in exchange for his, aware before she had spoken that the scales could not be balanced even if she had a hundred tales of similar childhood antics  
“But the only stuffed animals I had were for throwing spears at”  
“Oh my” Alfred looked taken aback but Bruce couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled out of him as he pictured Diana as a child; as he had known her for one strange afternoon viciously attacking a line of plush animals with a spear.  
“Well I do hope the young Miss will be gentler on her toys.” Alfred sniffed “I’m afraid my own needlework doesn’t hold a candle to your Father’s”   
Still slightly disorientated and now buoyed by the atmosphere of the kitchen Bruce said  
“That’s alright Alfred, we’ll call Leslie if any more bears lose their heads” Before he could stop himself

He wanted to snatch the words out of the air and shove them back under his tongue the second they left his mouth. But they wouldn’t be corralled and danced away down paths he had never considered taking. 

That ‘we’ and everything it could ever come to mean unfolded before him. He watched as the empty spaces that made up the Manor were filled in bit by bit as it became lived in rather than simply occupied. The bags and boxes that surrounded him now were unpacked and their contents put away in the nursery. Then more boxes, containing Diana’s belongings from the Watchtower likewise unpacked and put away in his bedroom. He saw a cobbled together patchwork family of six. Almost Mommy and Almost Daddy with Almost Daughter. Plus two sort of brothers and a Grandfather in everything but blood and name. 

He saw child locks on doors, gates across stairways and suits of armour without spears. There were toys on the kitchen table, children's books in the library and little shoes left at the backdoor fresh from the gardens with warnings from Alfred that they’d better not travel any further than the mudroom. He saw school bags, books and uniforms, scattered where they shouldn’t be and sat in the front row for ballet and piano recitals. 

He saw himself at his Father’s desk, no longer so large and imposing carefully repairing a broken doll while a dark haired little girl watched on.

But there were other paths, paths Bruce knew well and was used to treading. Paths that sounded like three reasons given on rooftops and looked like gargoyles with crushed heads. 

He saw a portal in the middle of the cave, he had no doubt that if his other self could build one so could he. He held Essie, a little older perhaps but otherwise exactly as he had found her; sedated and rewrapped in his mother’s coat. There was no hard drive this time though, instead under all her layers was a note.   
It read ‘We’re not the same’. 

He saw himself 20 years from now. Older, slower, nearly the bitter old man he and Green Lantern had met; staring from the shadows as a resplendent young woman in full Amazonian armour introduced herself to the League. Her name was appropriately Greek, her origins close enough to Aresia’s to placate any questions and if anyone thought she looked a little too much like Diana or acted a little too much like him they kept it to themselves.  
He shrugged off Clark’s knowing glares.

He saw Diana aboard the Watchtower Essie clutched to her chest telling everyone of the child she had found abandoned; or had been charged with caring for by the higher powers that took a more hands on approach in her life than they did anyone else's. Not the truth but not a lie. She was bought up in the halls of the Watch and Metro Towers and beloved by countless heroes. He was nothing more than one of many ‘Uncles’ and worth no more than a polite ‘hello’ when they ran into each other.  
Which they didn’t, he saw to that.

Three winding paths through the familiar mire of self denial and one golden, shining road he had turned his back on at every given opportunity.

Bruce looked at Essie. She had stopped shaking the rattle and was now invested in trying to shove as much of it as she could in her mouth, fortunately she wasn’t getting far. Unprompted his mind bought forth her notes and reviewed how many teeth she possessed. Four; upper and lower central incisors. More information followed in the same fashion. Weight; 6.8kg. Length; 64.77cm. Blood type; O Positive. Bruce forced his mind to stop the recall. Everything was returned to it’s shelf as he reminded himself he had more than numbers and figures this time. 

He had a daughter. He and Diana had a daughter, the road ahead was not his alone to choose. Nor his alone to walk.

“Da” Essie removed the rattle from her mouth and held it out to him. Aware of both Alfred and Diana watching him Bruce crouched before her and took it. He gave the rattle a shake and watched as Essie’s mouth stretched into a smile of pure delight at the chiming sound. Her hands came together in a clumsy clap.   
“I guess we know who the favourite was, she wouldn’t let me touch that rattle” Diana said  
“She took it from you at least. She didn’t so much as look when I offered” Alfred sniffed  
“Who’s a clever girl then?” Bruce gave the rattle another shake and without removing his gaze from Essie smirked at the mutinous glares he knew he was receiving from Alfred and Diana.  
“Straight to his head” Alfred muttered  
“I’m sure it’s a new experience, being someone's favourite” It was amazing how Diana could still manage to look down her nose at him from a seated position.  
“You mean I’m not yours?” Bruce said. He kept his voice purposefully light and imbued it with a hint of teasing to match the atmosphere of humour that still permeated the room. But there was an unmistakable edge under it and he watched from the corner of his eye as Diana’s face coloured and she stumbled over a few abortive responses before she managed to compose herself and lowering her gaze, yet purposefully avoiding his eyes she replied  
“I thought that option was off the table”

“Oh dear is that the time? I’m afraid I have pressing duties I must attend to. Excuse me Your Highness” Alfred stood smoothly and catching Bruce’s eyes with a clear warning to behave he left the room just as silently as any member of his household. Bruce slid into his vacated seat across from Diana. Her eyes remained fixed solidly on the teacup before her, her hand ran itself absently through Essie’s curls. A gesture of comfort who’s familiarity did not go unnoticed by Bruce.

“Diana”  
Her gaze finally rose to meet his, wary and worn.  
“I’m in no mood for lists Bruce” She said  
“I don’t have any”  
An eyebrow was arched at him and he faltered.  
“Alright there’s a list”  
Diana’s lips pulled into a thin line and she nodded, mainly he knew, to herself.  
“But I don’t want to do anything on it” He added quickly and realised as he said it that he truly didn’t.  
He didn’t want to send Essie back to where she came from. Nor did he want to know that radiant young Amazon or watch from the walls as a young girl grew up in the Watchtower.  
“What do you want then?”  
That was the question and now Bruce felt sure he knew the answer.   
“For Essie to stay here”   
Diana seemed shocked by that and he tried not to feel hurt. It was expected really.  
“I want Essie to stay here. Live here. With us. We can give her the life her parents couldn’t, the one they wanted her to have. We can be the parents she deserves. You and me, I know we can.”  
He was floundering, he knew he was. All the smooth, easy words he usually had tucked away in his arsenal dangled just beyond his reach. This was why he avoided being earnest. He met Diana’s eyes once more and begged her to save him. Kind Goddess that she was she granted him absolution and safe passage back into familiar waters.  
“What’s your plan?”

He didn’t have one but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. Already his mind was formulating. Diana could stay in Dick’s room until the nursery was ready. Or if she would prefer her own space Alfred could have the guest suite she’d stayed in before made up within the hour. She could have the whole wing if that wasn’t enough; he couldn’t think of any reason it wouldn’t be, she made do with a single room on the Watchtower. Speaking of; she would have to transport there directly from the cave to avoid being seen entering or leaving the grounds as Wonder Woman. It would be a hassle to enter and wipe the coordinates manually for an extra person but not as much of a hassle as a member of the Watchtower staff finding them logged in the system and putting two together. He wasn’t hiring morons to work his billion dollar space station. But maybe it would be more prudent to come up with a reason for Diana to be excused from her League duties for the foreseeable future rather than machinate on how she would continue them. Until Essie could be comfortably left in Alfred’s or anyone else's care she would require one of them on hand and between him and Diana her schedule was the more forgiving. His schedule could be made more forgiving though; at least Bruce Wayne’s half could. He could call on a half a dozen well used excuses to take time away from Wayne Enterprises and his social calendar. The time of year leant itself to skiing holidays, he could claim to have gone abroad and broken a leg. That would buy him a few months before he had to return to work with sob stories of being confined to the couch in his Swiss chalet. 

However Bruce knew these plans were all short term; removing himself and Diana from the public until Essie was no longer quite so dependant and could be kept tucked away in the manor without them. But if Essie truly were to stay she couldn’t remain hidden, she’d need to be fully integrated into Bruce Wayne’s life. Diana would need to be as well, it was clear she had no intention of giving the infant up.

It was as he was theorising on the many ways both of them could be plausibly introduced into the ongoing theatre production that was his civilian identity that Clark’s words once again found themselves in the forefront of Bruce’s mind. This wasn’t his decision alone to make.

He looked at Diana and Essie across from him and at a precipice. Diana was still stroking Essie’s dark hair in a nervous tick that she didn’t dare let reach her steady gaze. Essie was quiet, calmed and soothed by the touch of the woman she thought was her Mother and the presence of the man she thought was her Father. And just as he did every night on the rooftops of Gotham Bruce approached the edge and with the words  
“We’ll figure something out”  
He jumped.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Story Notes

How many secret passages is too many?: Ok we all know the way to the Batcave is behind the Grandfather clock, the problem is the clock doesn't stay in one place. Throughout the DCAU it's location changes from a library/study to just sitting in a hallway. I've gone ahead and put it in a library.

Time Travel troubles: The name Winston obviously refers to Winston Churchill. While Diana every original League member but Batman fought in an alternate version of WW2 in the episode 'The Savage Time' she would still likely have had to go out of her way to educate herself on the history of the world outside of Themyscira arriving so late in it as she did.

Needlework: I'm not sure if Thomas Wayne has ever been confirmed as an actual surgeon in the DCAU over just a doctor but he was one in the comics so I've gone with it. However proficient he may of been Alfred's probably matched him by now but would never boast. In the Batman episode 'Paging the Crime Doctor' Leslie Thompkins is shown to be both a general practitioner and a surgeon. 

This chapter was a bitch to write I kept slipping way to deep into a stream of consciousness style narrative and had to drag myself out back into the world of legibility. Let me know if I succeeded.

Let me know what you thought in general, I accept criticism of my work provided it comes with a dose of constructiveness

Ari out!


	4. Chapter 4

Why didn’t he have an elevator?

He had a wine cellar, a dojo and five studies. He had a smoking lounge for God’s sake. But no elevator. No instead he had to drag himself up two flights of stairs at four in the morning. 

Sighing as deeply as he could before the ribs he had cracked two days ago complained Bruce placed a hand firmly on the banister and began the final ordeal of the night.

Adding a serving on insult to injury was the niggling little voice in the back of head reminding him how a year or two ago he’d been able to make the trek without grasping the banister. Hell there was a time when the climb hadn’t even been worth noting much less considered a hurdle

He was getting old

Bruce supposed in a way he had been blessed or cursed with the knowledge of what old age would look like when it eventually came to him. He couldn’t help but wonder, some days how long it would be until he looked in the mirror and saw that bitter old man staring back. Now thanks to his counterparts message he had an idea of what the next couple of years would bring too. 

The knowledge didn’t leave him feeling any warmer. Instead it gave Bruce the feeling of someone passing over his grave.

How many versions of himself could one man know? And how could he be sure he was the one on the right path? 

Bruce bet these weren’t the kind of thoughts people in elevators at four am had. Only those on staircases.

Halfway there

It was comforting in a way; to be hauling himself up the stairs tonight as he had the night before and the night before that. Proof that some things never changed no matter how much others did.

Bruce had been admittedly surprised when Diana had insisted he go ahead with his patrol as planned. He had been fully prepared to leave despite her. 

There had of course been no question in his mind of staying.

He had spent the drive back into the city, a much speedier trip than his one from it earlier in the day, analysing that insistence from every angle.

It had been early evening. He and Diana had spent the remainder of the afternoon in the kitchen; talking with the easy comfort of two who had known each other for years about what to do with the child they now inexplicably shared. The conversation had been circular, with nowhere to go but round and round over what they already knew. It was sort of thing that usually drove Bruce up the wall but as always talking in circles with Diana wasn’t nearly as infuriating as it was with everyone else.

He had steadfastly refused to spend a second of his drive analysing that. He knew damn well why he was able to tolerate things in Diana he couldn’t abide in others. If Bruce were to be completely honest with himself that was how he had first known he was in trouble; when the naivete, haughtiness and idealism he found unbearable in anyone else just made Diana more endearing.

It was as the afternoon light had begun to wane making the world grey around them that Diana had asked.  
“Don’t you have to get ready for patrol?”  
He should have known the question or at least something like it was coming. She had spent the past half an hour glancing over at the oven clock, while he pretended not to notice. An exchange, he felt, for the way she was pretending not to notice that his own gaze kept finding it’s way back to Essie. Asleep on her lap and looking far more peaceful and content than anyone who had witnessed her awake would think she was capable of.

The time Diana had spent at the Manor after the Thanagarian invasion had given her insights into his routine that few were privileged enough to hold. She knew it wasn’t enough to simply descend into the cave come nightfall and depart. 

Other's might operate with such carelessness but not the Batman.

The Batman went through warm ups and meditated while he stretched. The Batman double checked every single piece of his equipment. The Batman consumed the precise amount of calories needed to give him enough energy to get through to midnight at which point top ups could be made as needed while reviewing active cases. To leave at an optimistic 10pm required hours of preparation. And Bruce had known he should have started an hour ago. 

He had reasoned with himself that under the circumstances corners could be cut; there were only a handful of active cases to review and he could do so over a protein bar rather than a meal. The frigid weather almost guaranteed a quiet night with everyone who possibly could gone to ground to escape the cold. No big names were on the scene and all intel pointed to them staying that way until the snow at least melted. The period after new years to the first inklings of spring was effectively crimes off season. All of which built a solid case for pushing back his departure an hour or two in Bruce’s mind.

But he hadn’t expected Diana to bring it up. 

The scenarios in his mind had involved Alfred entering the kitchen, acting like he hadn’t been hovering in the hallway listening to every word being said within, and getting started on the evening meal. Bruce would make mention of not bothering to cook for him and would go to the cave with Alfred’s disappointment and Diana’s anger behind him. 

Instead he was faced with Diana paving his way downstairs with her blessing. 

He hadn’t known what to think of that and his drive into the city hadn’t made things any clearer. Nor had the hours he’d spent thinking on it during a, as predicted, incredibly slow night. 

He’d literally left her holding the baby. On what was essentially their first night of parenthood no less. She should have been furious with him not encouraging. That was far easier to face than the realisation Diana understood and supported his mission. 

It wasn’t exactly a new revelation. 

Bruce had known since the founding of the League that their causes and goals if not the same at least aligned. And he had suspected since around the time he had also begun to suspect his feelings for Diana went deeper than those of a comrade and co worker that she would support if not insist upon his missions prominence in any relationship they might pursue But suspecting something and having the evidence of it put in front of him were two separate things. 

And it forced him to consider that if this, one of the many issues he had offered up in an admittedly pathetic excuse to keep himself and Diana apart could be overcome then why couldn’t the others? 

Definitely not the sort of thoughts people in elevators at 4am had. 

With one final, heavy step Bruce made it to the top of the stairs. Only to be greeted by a long dark corridor. It had been there last night and the night before that and the one before that and every night since the Manor had been built but still Bruce glared at it. Glaring didn’t do anything of course so he was forced to continue on putting one tired foot in front of the other.

He was halfway down the hall when the sound of singing reached his ears. It tugged at him and Bruce found himself following the melody to it’s source. 

Light spilled in a puddle of warmth out from under Dick’s door and spurned on as though beckoned by a siren, though he doubted Diana would appreciate the comparison, Bruce cracked it open just a sliver.

Diana hung in the air before the window illuminated by both the light of the moon and the glow of a bedside lamp. She rocked back and forth as though she were in a hammock while she sang softly in her native tongue. 

It wasn’t a lullaby but rather Bruce gathered, a hymn to Hera

His ancient Greek was rusty and only bore only a passing resemblance to the dialect cultivated in Themyscira’s isolation but the scraps that did align spoke of her shrines, titles and duties. 

It also didn’t appear to be having any effect. Bruce couldn’t see Essie but could hear her whining much as she had earlier in the cave when she had still been in the evidence bin.

The hymn ended with a rather on the nose reminder that Hera watched over Mother’s and was to aid them without solicitation. A plea the goddess clearly wasn’t intent on hearing as Essie continued to grizzle. 

“Please little sister, please go to sleep” Diana begged her voice tinged with a desperation she usually reserved for the battlefield and even then would be loath to openly display. And just as he would never abandon her then Bruce knew he couldn’t turn his back on her now. His body screamed at him for rest but he tampered it down as he entered the room smoothly.  
“Still keeping late hours I see”

Diana spun to face him with palpable relief  
“You’re still one to talk” She floated across to him, a small smile gracing her otherwise wan features. She looked tired. Bruce suspected he looked worse but neither of them could compare to Essie who looked downright miserable. Her little face was red and streaked with both tears and drool as she cried that same high pitched whining cry.  
“I don’t know what’s wrong with her. She’s exhausted but she just won’t sleep. She’s been like this all night. Alfred tried to help but she wouldn’t let him near her and I didn’t want to disturb his rest in case you needed him.” Diana explained

Bruce pondered her behaviour with a frown. A reaction to her earlier sedation disrupting her usual sleep patterns? A side effect of interdimensional travel unique to infants? Perhaps the overall change in routine and scenery was catching up with her. Routine; that was the most likely answer. So far Essie had reacted adversely to anything that differed from what she was used to. What she was used to however wasn’t explicitly clear and without knowing they would have to work backwards. Not tonight though, tonight they just had to get her to sleep somehow.

Diana began to bob in the air in a desperate attempt to soothe the child who was fighting tooth and nail to remain unsoothed. It was a losing battle. Bruce knew, better than anyone else perhaps that there was only so long the human body could remain awake. 

He had trained and conditioned himself to be able to go without sleep for days and there was simply no way a nine month old could do the same no matter how much she wanted to. Sooner or later Essie would have to sleep. They just had to outlast her. He was the Batman, he could do that.  
“Give her here” He held his arms out and Diana eager to give her own a rest placed Essie in them.

Bruce weighed his options. He could head back downstairs to the cave and review case files but he’d have to trudge all the way back upstairs once Essie was asleep. He could go to the dojo and go through forms one handedly, that would be meditative. Maybe he could fashion a sling to hold Essie and free up both hands, or had Clark thought to buy a baby carrier? He could simply wait for the exhaustion so plainly lapping at her tiny body to finally take it’s toll

As waiting it out was the only option that didn’t involve trekking to another part of his at the moment annoyingly palatial house, it was the one Bruce chose. Bone tired and heavy he kicked the slippers Alfred had dutifully left by the Grandfather clock for him off and settled on Dick’s bed. He was about to begin meditating when he became aware of Diana staring at him. He cracked one eye open to regard her. She wasn’t floating anymore and somehow despite using an oversized t-shirt he had a sneaking suspicion was his as a nightgown she still managed to give off a regal and unruffled air.  
“What?”  
“And where am I supposed to sleep?” She asked  
“There’s half a bed left” Bruce said closing his eye and preparing to tune out all unnecessary distractions with a mantra. Unfortunately the sound and motion of covers being pulled back followed by a dip in the mattress and then the warm solid presence of a body beside him was much harder to ignore than the usual distractions.

So was the awareness that sleep was closing in on him and at this point meditation would be doing little more than opening the door to it.  
“Since when are you so prudish anyway?” He said in an attempt to stave it off. While sharing an actual bed could be considered a novelty it was hardly the first time he and Diana had slept in close quarters. Barring all the times they had been knocked out and imprisoned together; there were still all the times they had snatched however much rest they could on long haul javelin flights between missions and a handful of occasions where Bruce’s expertise had been needed on intergalactic diplomacy missions with hosts who thought a single room would suffice for their guests. All of the founding League members had slept in eachother’s presence with the exception of J’onn who didn’t require it as his colleagues did and hadn’t fallen into the habit of it like Clark.  
“Are we really talking now?” Came Diana’s voice from somewhere down beside him.  
“Just till the baby sleeps” Bruce assured her aware that his voice conveyed it would be a shoot out.  
“We could be at it for hours then. Are you sure you have that many words?”  
“Funny”  
“Not my fault she’s an insomniac. She gets that from you”  
“I’m not an insomniac. Insomnia is a disorder resulting in difficulty falling and staying asleep. I can sleep whenever I choose”  
Thanks to years worth of combat readiness and the tenuous fact that while his sleep often was disrupted by nightmares, he did not avoid it because of them. Though he doubted a psychiatrist would care to see the distinction.  
“My mistake”  
“Thank you”  
“I meant the words, you might have enough”  
Diana’s voice was drifty. Bruce cracked an eye open to regard her. She was lying like him flat on her back with both eyes closed. Unlike him she was under the covers and unpropped by pillows. 

For a minute they lay together like that; half asleep, half not. It was nice, comforting even. Enough to make him want to close his eyes again. Just for a moment, he promised himself. Just a short little while. While Essie was quiet. 

Essie was quiet? 

Pushing sleep back yet again Bruce opened an eye and glanced down at Essie, fast asleep.  
“Diana” Bruce hissed  
“Hmm?” Came the half asleep response  
“Diana wake up”  
“I’m awake” She certainly didn’t sound it. Bruce had to wonder at just what had left her so worn that a span of 7 hours without sleep could affect her like this. While she hardly adhered to his own stringent schedule Diana like any warrior could operate on low sleep. 

He admonished himself for not keeping a tighter watch on her duties. Then was forced to remind himself that 24 hours ago just what Diana got up to was none of his business and it could only sparingly be considered so now. 

A slow exhale from beside him informed Bruce that Diana had slipped further away from consciousness. Another glance down at her proved what he had suspected, she was fast asleep. It also showed him that the crib was on her side of the room. 

Of course it was. 

Still remaining entirely motionless Bruce lowered his gaze to Essie still asleep in his arms. Her face was no longer quite so red, though it remained relatively damp. He resisted the urge to dry it, lest the motion disturb her.

He needed her as asleep as possible for what he planned next; getting her into the crib. 

He could do it. He just had to get up, get around the bed and put her down without waking her. 

Not a problem. 

He routinely dealt with things that were disturbed by motion. Those things had a tendency to explode. A baby should be nothing compared to an actual bomb. 

On three Bruce told himself before counting down in his head. He made to sit up on the promised number but froze instantly as Essie’s nose scrunched and the very hint of a whine began in the back of her throat. He settled back down and waited until he was sure she was once again asleep before trying again. This time he received the very start of a cry disturbing Diana from down beside him. It petered out as he once again stilled. Realising he was effectively trapped Bruce let his head fall back against the pillows he had propped up behind him in defeat.

He glared down at the sleeping infant but much like glaring down darkened hallways nothing was achieved. He was clearly stuck and would have to make the best of it. He wouldn’t be able to get the full unguarded rest he had hoped for while holding Essie, he was hardly a peaceful sleeper. But could keep himself firmly within the upper echelons of sleep, never drifting down deep enough to dream and maintaining at least a basic awareness of what surrounded him. And what he held.  
It wasn’t much but for tonight it would have to be enough. Bruce wasn’t sure what they would do tomorrow but he had enough on his plate without borrowing trouble.

With one final look at both Essie and Diana Bruce finally allowed sleep to claim him.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Story Notes

Floor Plan: While the Manor definitely has a dojo and at least one study I can’t vouch for anything else I said Bruce had. And I’m also reasonably sure there’s at least one elevator from the cave to the Manor, because as I said last time it has a bunch of entrances.

Hymns: The hymn Diana sings is based on an actual one I found when I conveniently googled ‘Ancient Greek Hymns’ apparently the whole point of them was to butter your chosen deity up. 

Insomnia: We could probably all have a lovely conversation over whether or not Bruce can be considered an insomniac. On the one hand, he rarely sleeps. But on the other, he’s doing other things at night.

And that’s all for this update, I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought even if you didn’t. I accept criticism of my work, I only ask that it be constructive.

Ari out!


	5. Chapter 5

Diana awoke in stages; languishing in peaceful befuddlement as her surroundings came into focus around her.

It was bright, brighter than the endless expanse of space her room on the Watchtower looked out over. 

Strange but not especially troubling. 

Her bed was soft and the linens smelt not of the Watchtowers industrial driers and the nothing scent of ones own bedding but of camphor with a subtle scent of sunshine. 

Worth noting but not particularly distressing. 

And certainly not worth waking just this moment over. 

No, Diana’s mind reasoned, she could snuggle down and drift for an extra half hour. She didn’t have monitor duty and her morning prayers and meditation weren’t going anywhere. 

Distantly she remembered being annoyed at Hera over something but didn’t let that stop her from rolling over, burrowing further under the covers and snuggling closer to the source of warmth on her left. 

Warmth? 

That got her attention and her eyes snapped open as the events of yesterday came back in a rushing wave. 

It was bright because sunlight was pouring into the room from the uncurtained window. The bed linen’s smelled like the storage Alfred had no doubt pulled them from before making the bed up. 

And the source of warmth beside her was Bruce. Laying, asleep on top of the comforter and dressed in the thermal under-layer of his suit. He took up most of the bed by sheer bulk. It was easy to forget sometimes with the way he constantly cloaked himself both in his cape and literal shadows just how large Bruce actually was. His bare feet almost dangled off the edge. Essie slept on her stomach held to his chest by a single hand that nearly encompassed her entire body. 

Diana found herself staring at that hand. Usually gloved in her presence, it was broad and flat, a lesser observer might consider it ungainly. His fingers were long and tapered, like a pianists or more accurately a mechanist's. Despite his neatly trimmed and manicured nails however nothing of Bruce’s hands spoke of a life of luxury.  
Diana wondered how he passed off the callouses and scars left by years of weapons training, jump line use and less than friendly introductions with the faces of Gotham’s underworld. They certainly weren’t the sort of thing you would expect from a pampered playboy who had never done a day’s work in his life.

“Are you going to stare at me all morning?”  
Diana nearly took to the air in shock as Bruce’s voice broke through her silent musings. A quick, guilty glance at his face showed his eyes were still shut. In fact if he hadn’t spoken she would’ve sworn he was still asleep, nothing of his expression or posture had changed and his breathing remained slow and steady.  
“How long have you been awake?” She asked  
“Long enough to appreciate the attention” Came the reply.  
Rolling her eyes and certain that he knew she had Diana shoved the covers back. She was about to clamour out of bed with absolutely no concern for how it jostled her companion when he spoke again.  
“Easy Princess, you’ll wake her”

She froze instantly. Her eyes went straight to Essie with a touch of fear she certainly wasn’t too proud to admit to. She’d rather fly straight down to Tartarus and confront Hades than go through last night again. 

There weren’t many things Diana could say she would back down from but last night made the short list. She’d had no idea a child could cry so much for so long and likewise had had no idea that being unable to comfort them would be so heartbreaking. Two things Diana could never abide feeling were helpless and useless and last night she’d had to endure hours of both. 

Many of the nights details seemed far away and distant in the light of day but Diana remembered pacing up and down the hallway. Firstly on foot until in a moment of desperation she decided Essie couldn’t cry any harder than she already was so she began floating in case that would prove more soothing. Alfred, may Hestia ensure he never burned a single dish as long as he lived, had tried to help but his presence had only served to upset Essie further so Diana had sent him to bed. She wasn’t sure what hour Bruce had gotten in and whatever had passed between them was fuzzy and far away in her memory.

“When did she fall asleep?” Diana asked not daring to so much as lie back down. Looking at Essie, so still and peaceful it was hard to believe how fiercely she had fought rest; crying grizzling and whining no matter what Diana tried.  
“Not long after you” Bruce said  
“This isn’t going to be easy is it?” It was a foolish question and one Diana already knew the answer to but there was nothing else that properly conveyed her defeat or the magnitude of what she had signed up for. 

In the years she had spent in Man’s World Diana had had the opportunity to observe many Mothers and their children. As someone who merited a degree of celebrity she had been accosted occasionally by excited children; all with a million and one questions, who had to be reined in by their Mothers with exasperatedly fond reminders of manners. Sometimes it was the Mother’s doing the asking while their children cringed with embarrassment and worried about being seen as uncool tied to usher them away. As a superhero there were many times where she had had cause to rescue and reunite both Mothers and children. Whether when providing disaster relief or facing down villains. Even as a stranger and outside observer the bonds that joined those women to their children had been palpable, the love so obvious it almost didn’t bear mentioning. 

Now looking at her own child Diana could only wonder when that bond would join them. 

As far as Essie was aware it already did. But Diana felt certain that couldn’t last. The more time they spent in eachothers company the more the illusion of her being her Mother would tear. Already cracks were beginning to form. Her obvious inexperience the night before had only served to confuse and further upset Essie, who couldn’t understand why the woman who had seemingly just a night ago known how to soothe her no longer did

It likely wouldn’t be long until she cottoned on, despite her less than sunny disposition Essie had thus far demonstrated remarkable perception. Diana wasn’t sure what they’d do when that happened. 

All she could do was hope that Essie would understand in whatever way she could that she was still loved. It might not have been the same love her true parents had been able to give her but just because it was different didn’t mean it was less. 

“Don’t tell me you’re giving up”  
There was a challenge in Bruce’s voice and Diana couldn’t help but smile over the fact that he once again knew just what to say.  
“Not a chance”  
He met her smile with one of his own, rare and genuine. It might have qualified as a moment if a distinct smell hadn’t reached both their nostrils and stripped the smiles from their faces.  
“On second thought” Diana said. 

The last time they had found themselves in this situation they had been able to foist it off on Clark. That sadly wasn’t an option this time. But just because he wasn’t there physically didn’t mean Superman couldn’t save the day.  
“Here” Diana darted to the other side of the room as Bruce sat up and took Essie from his chest before it had a chance to be in the line of fire. She stirred at the motion and from across the room Diana tensed. Essie, however did not begin to cry but rather expressed her discontent at having been awoken with a mild grizzle Diana would have gladly traded her tiara for the previous night. She floated back with one of the many shopping bags that had been in the kitchen yesterday and upended it unceremoniously on the bed. 

Bruce’s eyes quickly appraised the contents Diana had had the luxury of time to acquaint herself with. Clark had clearly either found himself way out of his depth or had decided to honour his boyscout nickname. Along with a patterned changing mat and 5 different kinds of baby wipes, diapers for every age from newborn to a year scattered across the bed. 

If Diana had expected Bruce to regard the pile with the same deer-in-the-headlights expression that had graced her features when she had found it necessary to familiarise herself with it she was disappointed. He simply spread the mat out and changed Essie with the same deft hand he took to everything else. Diana couldn’t decide whether to be impressed or annoyed. She had needed Alfred to coach her through the process the previous night and it had taken her 3 go’s to get it right.

“Keep an eye on her” Bruce stood swiftly and carried the soiled diaper to the en suite. Essie looked ready to start crying as soon as he stepped away from her but Diana wasn’t above using her speed to pick her up before she could start.  
“Where did you learn to change a diaper anyway?” She called shifting Essie to free one hand up enough to repack the wipes and diaper packs back into the bag.  
“On a rooftop” Came the reply over the sound of a tap running. If she hadn’t known him any better Diana would have sworn he was kidding. 

Bruce emerged from the en suite and held his arms out. Diana handed Essie over and got back to work two handedly. She returned the bag to the corner of the room where several others sat. She and Alfred had run a rudimentary inventory after Bruce had left for patrol and had bought the things she anticipated needing most upstairs. Bruce meandered over and appraised the collection before adjusting Essie to gather the one containing the neat stack of onesies. 

Diana was certain he’d appreciate the utilitarian approach Clark had taken to picking out baby clothes. They might have had differing colours and patterns but that was where the differences ended. Essie’s closet consisted of nothing fancier than the one romper with an appliqué rabbit on the front. Handy, Diana supposed for a child who had come to them in rags but part of her couldn’t help but wish she had something nicer. 

Not that, she thought looking down at the oversized t shirt Alfred had given her to sleep in, she was doing much better. A glance at her borrowed sweatsuit from yesterday; hung over the back of the chair her uniform was folded on told Diana to focus on solving her own clothing woes before Essie’s. 

A sharp cry drew her attention back to Bruce, he had laid Essie back on the bed in preparation to dress her but as always the instant contact was gone she began to fuss.  
“Da!” Two tiny hands shot up as though they had a chance of making it to Bruce  
“Daaaaa” Essie whined straining to grasp what was beyond her reach. Diana moved in to soothe her but Bruce held a hand out.  
“Wait”  
Confused but long used to following Bruce’s orders no matter how abrupt and aware he didn’t give them for no reason Diana held back. Essie began to writhe on the bed, crying fully. The arms she realised were not going to be grasped began to beat against the mattress.  
“She should have a greater range of movement than that” Bruce noted dispassionately. Maybe it was just last night talking but Diana had no idea how he could remain so stoic in the face of such an assault, her own teeth were clenched at the noise. 

Clearly in detective mode Bruce sat on the bed and called  
“Essie”  
She turned her head to him and stretched an arm out but when it didn’t prove long enough she let it drop and continued her tantrum. On the trail of something Bruce stood and moved before her. He grasped her arms and gently tugged her into a sitting position. The crying that stopped the minute he touched her started right back up when he let go.  
“Da!” Still seated she stretched her arms out again and tried to rock forward to grasp him but all she managed to do was overbalance and continue to cry from where she slumped against the mattress. Grim faced Bruce lifted her back up into his arms.

Essie’s cries quietened but Diana couldn’t help but notice she didn’t fully settle into the usual complacency of being held but rather regarded each of them with suspicion. Unable to understand why the two people who had always kept her safe and comfortable were now treating her so harshly. A knock on the door stopped any questions Diana had on her tongue. And did nothing to help alleviate Essie’s suspicion. Her eyes snapped to the door in a panic as she shrunk against Bruce’s chest.

“Your Highness?” Alfred called gently from the hallway.  
“Come in Alfred” said Bruce.  
If Alfred was in any way surprised to find him in her room he certainly didn’t didn’t let it show. In fact Diana realised, noting the tray he held hosted two cups, he had expected him.  
“Good morning Your Highness, Master Bruce. I hope you both slept well” He put the tray down and busied himself pouring coffee from a steaming carafe.  
“Eventually” Diana smiled wanly, taking the cup Alfred offered to her. The Brew smelled stronger than what she was used to and Diana drank it gratefully.  
“And how is the young Miss this morning?” Alfred held the second cup up to Bruce who adjusted Essie to take it.  
“Not good” He said.  
“Oh dear” Alfred tried to peer at Essie but she wasn’t having it and tried to hide her face in Bruce’s chest with a noise that clearly meant ‘no’. Alfred sighed. It was difficult on him, Diana knew to be the source of such unwarranted fear and disdain.  
“Still in poor spirits I see” His tone was devoid of it’s usual wryness and Diana’s heart went out to him. She could read Bruce well enough by now to know that hers wasn’t the only one but all the same his voice was strictly business as he said  
“I need you to call Leslie, tell her it’s an emergency and to bring everything necessary for an infant wellness check”  
Alfred was able to regain a touch of drollness with a raised eyebrow at that but Diana felt certain his heart wasn’t in it.  
“At once Sir” He said before taking his leave

Essie perked up the moment he was gone, Diana however turned to Bruce with concern.  
“An emergency? Is everything alright?” Her hands itched to take Essie from him. Though she couldn’t see what good if any it would do.  
“It’s a routine check up for her age, there’s no mention of her ever receiving one in her records. The emergency is just to give Leslie an excuse to leave the clinic” Bruce explained as he put his now empty coffee cup aside and laying Essie back on the bed began to dress her. Diana wondered if he had learned to do that on a rooftop too. That, however was hardly her most pressing concern. She looked at Essie, happy and surprisingly compliant once her demands for constant contact were met. She kept completely still as her arms and legs were tugged every which way smiling up at Bruce the whole time. Anyone who saw her now would think her a dream.  
“But you think something’s wrong” Diana said. 

Bruce grasped each of the tiny hands he had just pulled through the sleeves of a floral onesie and pulled Essie up to her feet. They promptly buckled under her and she pitched as far forward as his gentle grip would allow.  
“She should be able to support her weight. Children begin to stand at this age, she wouldn’t even attempt to crawl when I called her”  
“Well that’s hardly surprising, she throws a tantrum every time she’s not being held” Diana pointed out  
“Noticed that too did you?” Still supported by Bruce Diana watched as Essie tried to get her feet under her in a pantomime of walking.  
“Kind of hard not to. She can control her legs at least” She noted with a relief Bruce didn’t share.  
“That’s a reflex” He said with a shake of his head  
“It’s supposed to integrate at 2 months, she shouldn’t still have it”  
So much for relief. Diana watched Essie babble to herself, the happy nonsense of a child who couldn’t understand the conversation being held over her.  
“What are we going to do?” She asked  
“We are going to get Leslie’s professional opinion and go from there”  
“And how are we going to do that? You’ve seen how she reacts to strangers, she won’t let them near her”

Bruce lifted Essie back up and gave a smile as she made to reach for his nose.  
“She’s only a baby, she can’t give us that much trouble” He said.  
Diana let out a sound of disbelief. Of course he would think that he hadn’t been up half the night with her. She knew exactly how much trouble Essie could be when she put her mind to it. 

The giggles that had began to bubble out of Essie as she entertained herself grabbing at Bruce’s face died with another knock on the door. She was as silent as a stone as Alfred entered  
“Doctor Thompkins is on her way Sir, she should arrive within the hour” He informed his employer  
“Thank you Alfred” 

Diana watched until he had left again before approaching the chair her uniform sat folded on and with a quick glance to make sure Bruce and Essie were a safe distance away she spun into it. Leaving her borrowed t shirt folded in it’s place.  
“What are you doing?” Bruce asked, he had braced Essie against his chest and held her well away from Diana’s changing act.  
“Going to the Watchtower to collect some clothes” She said  
“Now? What about Essie?”  
“Alfred said we had an hour, it won’t take me that long to pack a bag” Diana explained and before Bruce could argue she indicated the chair and it’s borrowed contents.  
“I can’t keep wearing hand-me-downs. Besides she’s only a baby, how much trouble can she give you?”  
Bruce glared at her but Diana refused to let her own expression be anything less than dazzling as she put a hand to her comm and called for transport.

The last thing she registered before her molecules dissembled was Essie’s bewildered expression and Bruce yelling  
“Wipe your coordinates!”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Sorry for the wait on this chapter, it just did not want to go where I wanted it to. Believe it or not it was meant to be fluffy and cute but I guess we're doing this now.

Story Notes

Because he's Batman: Batman actually did learn to change diapers on a rooftop, an issue of the BTAS tie in comic 'Adventures in Babysitting' centered on Batman trying to keep a baby who's DNA contains a launch code safe from everyone who wants him and since a couple of people who might know where the cave is he's forced to take the baby on patrol with him.

Stepping out: The step reflex is one of many babies are born with it disappears around 2 months of age but does reappear at around a year when babies are ready to actually start walking. 

Anyway that's all for this update stay tuned to see if I can actually manage some proper fluff and deliver on some actual romance. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter, I accept criticism I only ask that it be constructive.

Ari Out!


	11. Chapter 6

In a shower of molecules that gave off the sensation of being dipped in a carbonated beverage and for some reason no one could quite figure out smelled like buttered toast Diana arrived on the Watchtower. 

Even after years of teleportation she still felt a moments worth of disorientation at the sudden shift in location. Some of the Leagues newer members and staff were doubly put out by the sheer grandeur of the space station and the views it provided but at the risk of sounding callous Diana was long used to both. 

Although, she thought her eyes falling on the planet spinning idly down below, there was something different about the view now. She wasn’t simply looking down on an impassive world this time. This time her child was down there; somewhere in a big house and hopefully behaving better for her Father than she had for her. 

But speaking of

((J’onn)) She called telepathically.  
((Yes)) Came J’onn’s response from the command centre above her  
((Please wipe my transport coordinates from the log))  
((Of course))  
Diana was sure J’onn would be able to either recognise the coordinates or skim their relevance from her surface thoughts. 

She was, it turned out right on both counts but left the main ops completely unaware of the probing orange gaze that followed her. 

The halls of the Watchtower were quiet; given the day and hour most leaguers were busy with their respective cities and civilian identities. The few that were on duty greeted her with cheerful ‘good mornings’ as they passed in the halls. Diana returned their greetings but conjuring a smile that could pass as sincere was a little harder than usual. Fortunately the well of goodwill Wonder Woman had built up among her fellow League members was deep so if any noticed her smile was tight and her own ‘good mornings’ a little clipped they weren’t insulted and assumed only that she was fatigued.

Well most of them did

The dormitory deck itself was abandoned. While every League member had a room only herself and Shayera made full time use of them. Having been designed by Batman, along with the rest of the Watchtower the dormitories were functional before all else but Diana had done her best to make hers homey. 

Homey for her however involved a lot more marble than it did for others. For the sake of space she had been forced to limit herself to 4 columns in each corner of the room and a few choice friezes. Nothing of what she had chosen to decorate with; from the pottery to the mosaics was genuine, due in equal parts to the lack of accessibility in her exile and practicality. 

After what had happened to the original Watchtower Diana was loath to allow anything too precious on board. An approach she felt had been justified in the Cadmus attack when nearly the entire deck had been trashed by the cloned Ultimen. Her fittings had been easily repaired and replaced but others had lost countless treasured mementos

Question in particular had been unbearable for weeks as he tried to straighten out his conspiracy wall and would insist to anyone he could corner that the links made accidentally as the strings were dislodged in the assault were in fact left there for him to find on purpose. 

Despite the fact that her room had more furnishings than many others the closet was almost empty. In fact most of what it held had been bought after the destruction of the Watchtower had rendered her homeless and possession-less for the second time in as many years. 

It was almost ironic in a way to be taking everything back to Wayne Manor. Allowing a small smile at the Fates sense of humour Diana took the bag she had bought everything to the Watchtower from the Manor in the first place and set it on her bed. Then she began the process of removing things from their hangers and folding them ready to be packed

She hadn’t been lying when she said it wouldn’t take her an hour, in fact Diana doubted packing up her closet would take ten minutes. Even without using her gods given speed. She started with the chitons she had been able to bring from Themyscira when her exile had been lifted; her favourite items of clothing. She would have worn them whenever she wasn’t in her armour if she could. Maybe it was just her Amazonian pride talking but she thought the textiles produced on the island were far superior to those of Man’s World. Unfortunately she had found she stuck out enough in public without dressing a few millennia behind the rest of the planet, so kept her chitons aboard the Watchtower to be worn in her down time. Diana knew she likely wouldn’t be able to use them that way in the Manor as Bruce preferred to keep anything that didn’t fit within the carefully curated world of his alter ego firmly below ground. She suspected that the hard upstairs, downstairs line he kept in his house compensated for the fact that within his own mind the boundary between where Bruce Wayne stopped and Batman started was much more murky. 

They would suffice for nightwear though, without the peronai. She would rather sleep in the nude but that hadn’t gone over too well the last time she had stayed at the Manor and she hadn’t had the foresight to keep the pyjamas Bruce had rather pointedly purchased for her. He had originally leant her a robe but apparently felt safer knowing she had something on under it as well. Diana had long since discovered that if she allowed herself to be annoyed by every aspect of life in Man’s World that juxtaposed against her own upbringing she would never get anywhere; so had accepted the pyjamas with mild amusement. And had disposed of them the second they were no longer needed. 

She had never anticipated needing them again and Diana recalled with a sly smile had hoped that should she ever find herself a guest of the Manor again pyjamas or a lack thereof would not be an issue. 

Well she was once again a guest but it wasn’t at all under the circumstances she had hoped for. 

That gave Diana pause as she fully considered what her current circumstances actually were. Twisting the cloth she had been in the process of folding between her hands she sank to her bed in a daze. 

She’d spent the majority of the past 24 hours so caught up in the immediacy of caring for Essie she hadn’t had time to think of the future in fine detail. But now a literal world away she could reflect and think on the situation she found herself in.

She wasn’t just a guest of the Manor this time, she was going to live there. Live there and raise a child with Bruce. 

As what? Team mates and colleagues? 

Valued friends? 

Aphrodite knew that wasn’t what she wanted. 

Diana had closed the door on her feelings for Bruce when it became apparent that he had no intention of acting on what he obviously felt for her. She was hardly given to pining and the idea of debasing herself any further over a man was wholly unpalatable. So although it stung that he had let her give up the chase and didn’t seem to miss her flirting at all she had gladly endured it and moved on.

Their relationship was cordial yet professional, just the way Bruce wanted. 

The way he allowed. 

But could they raise a child like that? 

Diana could hardly claim to know about the traditional family dynamic so toted by Man’s World. It was so far removed from the ways of her own people. The most she could allow herself was a basic acceptance of how such a unit had formed but as for how it had endured and had risen to it’s current position of near idolisation she could not say.

But while that may have been beyond her comprehension the truth wasn’t and getting to it was particular skill of hers. She understood therefore that at it’s core this wasn’t truly about Essie. Children didn’t need two parents in a romantic relationship to flourish, Diana herself and countless others were proof of that. 

Instead at the heart of the matter were her and Bruce.

It was easy to keep a wall of professionalism between them when that was the only environment they interacted in. Trying to keep it up while they lived, slept and breathed in the same house was going to be a challenge and not one Diana was sure she was up for. 

Even her resolve had it’s limits.

A dull ache in her hand caused Diana to realise the cloth she had been wringing absently between them had ended up wound around her thumb and was cutting off her circulation. 

It was the umpteenth time since yesterday she had found herself fidgeting and she didn’t quite know what to do about it. Nervous habits had been trained out of her before she could properly develop them and she had centuries worth of experience staying still and poised beside her Mother’s throne. Knowing exactly what to do with her hands at all times had until 24 hours ago been as easy and unconscious as breathing

Unwinding her hands Diana gave what was almost a laugh when she saw that the fabric she held wasn’t a random scrap but rather a napkin.

The napkin that had been wrapped around her hair when she and Bruce had hidden from the Thanagarians. 

The napkin that had been wrapped around her hair when they kissed. 

Maybe she was viewing this the wrong way. Maybe instead of a challenge this was a second chance. An opportunity to finally get what she wanted. Maybe not today, Diana thought as she folded the napkin and placed it in the bag, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not the day after that but some day. The door she had closed was flung back open and the options that had been taken off the table were lined back up on it. 

That was one issue dealt with and Diana saw an open horizon before her as she stripped and packed what remained of her closet. Her heart however couldn’t feel completely light and free and that incessant urge to keep her hands busy wouldn’t go away.

Her thoughts couldn’t help from trailing back down to Earth and to Essie. If had known more about babies would she have noticed something was wrong sooner? She knew logically that that wouldn’t have made the slightest difference but there was an insidious voice slithering through her brain saying she’d only been a mother for a day and a half and she was already a bad one.

The voice was new and Diana did not like it. She had never for a day in her life doubted herself before. Whatever decisions she made, whatever actions she undertook; she preformed them under a banner of confidence never once questioning her abilities. 

She was Diana, Princess of the Amazons.

But she wasn’t the only one. 

In her mind Diana held herself up against her counterpart, the woman Essie still thought she was. They stood back to back, the exact height; would they still have the same figure and be the exact weight? Perhaps pregnancy had rounded her edges out, on the other hand the Bruce of that world had looked far worse for wear so perhaps the opposite was true and the Diana of that world was likewise leaner and gaunt. Her face could not have aged as the other Bruce’s had, neither of them would ever look any older than they did right now. But then the other had been able to conceive and carry a child while she never would so perhaps other parts of their physiology were different. 

Diana tried to imagine herself older but for some reason the only thing that came to mind was Bruce, grey haired and shrivelled in a strangely cut suit; grasping a cane and telling her they were all that was left now and her head began to throb.

Not older then; the other Diana’s face remained as youthful as her own, perfect and unblemished. Yet still crueller somehow and made even more so by the harsh cut of her hair. 

What the other founders had seen or not seen in their own doppelgänger’s Diana could not say but she knew now that her owns hair was a telling sign she should not have ignored. 

For as long as she could remember Diana had taken pride in her hair; felt it was the one thing she could take personal, selfish pride in. Her beauty had come from her Mother’s hands and a sculpture could not take pride in it’s artists skill. Not that beauty was seen as anything to take pride in on Themysicra anyway. Her abilities were gifts and taking undue pride in them would only prove her unworthy of their bestowal. Her hair however was the one vanity she allowed herself and was the one part of her being she had felt was truly hers. 

That terrible little voice whispered that there was a God with hair as black and curly as her own and she vehemently forced it down. 

Cutting her hair, for her, was unthinkable. The fact that the other Diana had not felt likewise should have been the first clue they were not the same.

They had more differences now but also more in common. 

Diana stared at herself, the woman she simultaneously was yet couldn’t imagine being. There were a million things she wanted to ask, a million things she wanted to say.  
‘This is your fault!’ She yelled at her, railed against her for sending Essie and putting her in this position in the first place, demanded what she’d been thinking and pushed every last bit of self doubt back on the woman who had caused it. 

But her double said nothing, did nothing. She simply stood, the antithesis of herself and looking at her Diana found she wanted to relieve her, promise she had made the right choice, assure her that her daughter would be loved no matter what and that she had done her best. 

Thinking of her counterpart and saying to her, if only her mind, the things she would never get the chance to do in reality did help. Once more Diana felt a little lighter, though slightly less sane. Perhaps the fact that she now lived in Gotham was already taking it’s toll. Well no better way to fit in with the locals than develop a neurosis or two. 

It would be nice however, Diana thought with a touch of amusement to be able pick the ones she’d end up with. 

All this worrying and second guessing was getting tiresome and she’d just as soon wash her hands of both. Did all parents go through this? She couldn’t help but ask herself as she grabbed the bag from her bed and made her way to the door.

Where she nearly ran straight into a broad green chest.  
“J’onn!” Diana cried managing to step back in time.  
“Forgive me” The Martian said his tone and expression blank as always. Or at least they would appear so to any who did not know him as Diana did. She could read the care underneath that blank tone, see the concern on that impassive face and understood that J’onn did not normally frequent the dormitory deck. Least of all to hover outside doorways.  
“What are you doing here?” She asked  
“I came to see if it were true” J’onn said  
“To see if what were true?” Diana slipped past the Martian and made it all of two steps before he said  
“That you and Batman have a child”

Diana stopped short. J’onn’s face was as impartial as ever as she spun back to face him, her own she knew was far from it.  
“How do you know about that? Did Superman...?” She wasn’t aware of Bruce telling Kal to keep Essie’s existence to himself but the idea that he hadn’t stung of betrayal. Essie was many things, her and Bruce’s was one of them and if the League were going to learn of her from anyone it should be from them.  
“I was not told by Superman, nor anyone else” J’onn told her  
“Then how..?” Diana stopped speaking as she realised and another flash of betrayal came over her, bringing anger with it.  
“You read my mind?”  
J’onn remained calm in the face of her outburst. He always did  
“There was no need, your thoughts are projecting themselves. And yes”

Already emotionally drained and unable to sustain anything approaching hostility against the blank wall of calm reason that emanated from J’onn, Diana allowed her anger to fall away.  
“Yes?” She asked.  
“Yes, all parents worry” J’onn said. His eyes stared past her, past the walls of the Watchtower, through time to a faraway planet as he spoke.  
“You will worry that she is eating too little, worry that she may get ill, worry that she may get hurt, worry that you are not providing what she needs. Worry that she knows you worry”

“J’onn...” It wasn’t often he spoke of the family he lost on Mars, of his wife and two little children. Diana knew the loss still weighed heavily upon him. Not as heavily as it once had but some burdens could not be put down, only made lighter. J’onn did not stiffen as he once would have when Diana embraced him and his arms lifted to return the gesture. She smiled at the motion. Something he had picked up from his Human wife; try as they may the founding members had never made much headway in introducing J’onn to Human displays of affection. 

“I did not intend to pry” J’onn said as they parted. Diana shook her head with a smile  
“I know J’onn, I’m sorry my thoughts were so loud. I’ve had a lot to work through”  
“I heard”  
Diana could hear the smile in J’onn’s voice though his face remained deceptively blank  
“Perhaps things would be easier to work through with help” He suggested  
“I don’t know if there’s any out there, they don’t exactly cover this in parenting books” Diana said. She had never had cause to read parenting books before yesterday but Clark had purchased a few arbitrary ones. Not even the couple her had thought to buy on adoption offered any tips on her situation. How could they? The children those authors had been writing for had been expected, anticipated. The child she had was anything but. 

“No I cannot see there would be much need” J’onn said. A hug and a joke in as many minutes; Diana beamed, his time among humanity had done J’onn a world of good. If only Essie could be so easily socialised, that would be half of the battle that awaited her upon her return to Wayne Manor won. J’onn’s head tilted ever so slightly and Diana knew he had heard her.  
“I’m sorry J’onn” She apologised again. It was hard to keep her thoughts from straying to Essie’s fear of strangers and the absolute war it would turn her upcoming check up into. Not to mention how difficult it was to keep from worrying over the results of that check up itself.  
“There is no need for apologies Diana. In fact I believe I may be able to assist you”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Hey who ordered all this disjointed, introspective narrative? Anyone? No? 

Sorry this chapter took me so long, it was even harder to write than chapter 3, who would’ve thought getting into Diana’s head would be tougher than Bruce’s? Plus I lost like a week in editing because of a spider.

Story notes

Decor: We do see Diana’s room aboard the Watchtower in ‘The Balance’ and it looks pretty lavish and as close to home as she could get it. Conversely Shayera’s room, which we also see, looks completely bare. As most League members have secret identities, I like to think many use their rooms on the Watchtower as a place to store things they can’t keep at their civilian residences. Key’s to the city, trophy’s and such. Not everyone has a Fortress of Solitude or Batcave for these things.

Ancient fashion tips: Chitons are a type of tunic worn by both men and women in ancient Greece and have been shown to still be completely in style on Themyscira. Personally I’d have gotten bored of the same style of dress for a thousand years but props to the Amazons for finding a look that works and sticking to it. Speaking of sticking, peronai are a type of pin used to secure the chiton at the shoulder.

Anyway that’s all for now, I’d love to hear what you think and to be told how I’m doing. As always I accept criticism of my work, I only ask that it be constructive or at the very least polite.

See you all in the next chapter, whenever that is

Ari Out!


	12. Chapter 12

Bruce tended to avoid thinking about where his life would have gone had his parents lived. It wasn’t a helpful exercise in any sense of the word and besides whatever dreams he’d had for his future at age eight had died along with them and he couldn’t remember them now. 

There were moments however when he couldn’t help but think on what he would have done with his life if he hadn’t become Batman. For the longest time both before and after she had reappeared in his life those thoughts had involved Andrea. Before she had come back to Gotham as the Phantasm he had thought they would be happy but after he realised they couldn’t have been. 

As his time with her had been the closest he had come to abandoning the mission it was only natural to ruminate on. But occasionally his thoughts did drift further.

He could have thrown himself fully into charity work like his Mother, become a doctor like his Father. Bruce was certain he would’ve abandoned Wayne Enterprises as his Father had if he didn’t need the cover. That had been one of the reasons he had felt so ill at ease in the dream world the Mad Hatter had trapped him in. He would be forever grateful to the company for providing him the wealth and resources he needed and would keep it going for legacies sake but he had no true desire to actually run it. He secretly took an inordinate amount of comfort in that, a small treasured thing he and his Father had in common. 

He could have picked a completely different path from that of his parents. He could have stayed with Zatara and become an acclaimed escape artist instead of just a great one, that could have been a fun life, Zatanna certainly seemed to enjoy it. He could have stayed in Japan and taken over teaching from Yoru Sensei, that would have been peaceful and fulfilling.

Sometimes he thought he might have liked to follow in Alfred’s footsteps and try his hand at acting. 

He did it all day anyway, it might have been nice to receive actual accolades for the craft he had honed so well. In another world he could have had an Oscar by now. Maybe in another world, some version of him did. 

Sick of thinking of different versions of himself Bruce shoved the thoughts from his mind and focused on his current performance; acting as though nothing were wrong and he knew what he was doing in front of Essie

She had reacted about as positively to Diana’s departure as a child with separation anxiety who had seen her mother vanish before her eyes could. Bruce had kicked himself for not thinking to shield her from it throughout the resulting meltdown. 

Diana and his own words had echoed mockingly in his ears as Essie’s cries got louder and louder while her face got redder and redder. She fussed in his arms squirming and kicking. One little hand curled into a fist but the other splayed out and she touched it to her chin over and over. Bruce instantly recognised the sign for ‘Mother’. She couldn’t say it, her notes had explicitly mentioned the only word she could thus far articulate was ‘Da’ despite being able to understand and sign several. But it gave him an idea. 

Bruce met Essie’s eyes and wished he hadn’t. 

They were Diana’s and seeing even an ounce of pain in them was nearly unbearable. It was a good thing Diana was much quicker to anger than she was to cry; that he had a defence for. God only knew where he’d be if the Princess had ever come to him with eyes like Essie’s were now. 

Keeping eye contact Bruce raised his free hand and placed a finger to his mouth, the near universal symbol for ‘shush’.

It worked.

Essie’s sobs petered out into a shaky silence broken only by occasional hiccups that shook her body as it caught up. 

Bruce had a theory and wasted no time in testing it. Essie’s notes had stated only that she understood several signs, there had been no mention of what they were or exactly how many. Extra paranoia on his doubles part no doubt and Bruce understood why. Shortly after allowing Dick to become Robin Bruce had realised there would be times they would need to communicate non verbally and given their use of grapple lines; one handedly. American sign language relied too heavily on the use of both hands and finger spelling wasn’t fast enough so he had developed his own signing system. It was rudimentary, allowing for basic sentences at most and without enough in the way of grammar to resemble an actual language. But it had proven useful over the years, conveying what needed to be between himself, Nightwing, Batgirl and Robin when radio silence had to be observed. 

Now, while still keeping Essie’s full attention Bruce splayed the fingers of his free hand and touched it to his chin before preforming the Batclan sign for ‘safe’. Comprehension dawned in her still watery eyes as she recognised the gesture. Seeing that Bruce explored his theory further and signed ‘return’ and ‘home’ and was rewarded as Essie understood and calmed.

He had uncovered his very own rosetta stone and allowed the triumph of the discovery overcome the thoughts of why his other self had thought it best for Essie to respond primarily to non verbal communication when she very clearly was neither deaf nor mute. It wasn’t a pleasant road, nor was the thought that somewhere in that other world there might still be a Dick and Tim and Barbara.

A victory was a victory, Bruce told himself as he left Dick’s room and he had a feeling he’d better get used to taking them as they came. Because, he thought as Essie hid her face in his chest rather than face the broad hallway they were likely going to be few and far between.

He made to shift her enough to check his watch and ascertain the time before he realised he was still in his suits under layer and wasn’t wearing it. A frown crossed his face, wandering the Manor in anything Bat related during daylight hours wasn’t the best idea. It wasn’t unheard of for visitors to stop by unannounced and it set a bad precedent overall. 

But although he had long since mastered the art of the quick change, there was no way he could do it one handedly. Well Bruce reasoned, the only person he was expecting had seen him in worse and he could pass his clothing off as expensive work out gear to anyone he wasn’t. 

They’d be more surprised by Essie than his attire in any case. 

That was something he’d have to put his mind to solving soon. He idly ran through possible scenarios for the introduction of Diana and Essie into his public life as he made his way to the staircase. All of Bruce’s thoughts passing though they were landed on one key revelation; Diana would need a secret identity. 

Bruce Wayne could not be linked to Wonder Woman in any ongoing capacity and for her own safety neither could Essie. Not to mention the very public fact that Wonder Woman had not been pregnant nine months ago. No if this was going to work Diana would need to assume another identity, at least in public. 

Whatever this was. 

Thin ice, said the Bat from the depths of his mind. 

So what if it was? Bruce immediately fought back. He was already on it, he’d been on it since that damn missile in gorilla city and maybe it was time to finally accept it. 

And he was tired Bruce realised. Tired of what life had become since what had started in Gorilla city ended there too. 

Whatever had been building between himself and Diana and there was no point in denying there was something, had died with Devil Ray. Bruce knew that he wasn’t responsible for the villains death even though it had been his hand on the trigger. He understood that, he accepted that. What was unacceptable was his relief. A man was dead, by his hand but all that truly mattered was he hadn’t harmed Diana. 

He could never let himself feel that again. Could never put himself in a position where he could feel that again or he might be tempted to do the job himself next time. Unacceptable. So he had done what he did best and withdrawn.

Logistically it hadn’t been difficult, Mr Terrific, though doing a brilliant job at filling J’onn’s role had been easily swayed by the voice of a founder and Batman and Wonder Woman found themselves assigned separately more often than not. A new program to train the League’s newer recruits made her unavailable for their weekly sparring sessions and no one questioned it too deeply if he attended 4 out of every 5 founders meetings remotely. Diana got the hint.

Emotionality, however it was a completely different story. The appearances he was forced to make as Bruce Wayne, never something he had enjoyed now made his teeth itch and he could barely contain his contempt for the actual idle rich. He held his family at arms length. He and Dick had argued more and more, while Tim chafed under his sudden mistrust in his abilities and Barbara was simply ignored. 

Even the mission became something it never had before. In the years since he had started it Bruce had considered it many things; a wretched duty, a divine undertaking, a slim white knuckled grip on sanity. But now it was tedious. 

Everything was tedious; he felt as though he had been dumped back in dull black and white Kansas after experiencing the technicolour wonderland of Oz. 

And he was tired of it. The few sparse hours he’d spent in Diana’s company since Essie had arrived had hit that home spectacularly. He had missed her, missed the way things had been before he’d closed the door on them.

His reasons were redundant; dating within the team was working out exceptionally well for Black Canary and Green Arrow and Huntress and Question. His enemies already had several people to get at him through and if Diana were to join the line up she’d be the worst choice they could make. And as for rich kids with issues and immortal Princesses not mixing, he held the proof that they not only did but did so beautifully.

As for thin ice, Bruce thought looking down at Essie, he wasn’t just on it; he was jumping up and down. The bat could glower all he wanted, Essie wasn’t going anywhere and so long as she wasn’t neither was Diana.

Bruce became aware of voices and made his way to the landing to view the foyer below. Leslie had arrived and was in the process of removing her coat and scarf. Alfred stood poised ready to take them. Her doctors bag rested at her feet like a black beetle. 

His Father had had one just like it, both had been graduation gifts from his Mother. As a child Bruce had loved to go through his Father’s bag and play with it’s contents, as an adult he did his damnedest to avoid Leslie’s and it’s contents. 

Where was Diana? She should’ve been back by now. She couldn’t have been assigned to a mission, he would have picked up the chatter on his communicator if anything that required Wonder Woman’s presence had come up. It should not be taking her this long to pack up what could only generously be called her wardrobe.

Bruce couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up in more than the literal sense and feelings were something he’d learned never to ignore.

Speaking of ignoring however Bruce knew he couldn’t do so to Leslie forever and Alfred would certainly track him down if he tried it much longer. Bruce reminded himself that this was hardly the most difficult or even the strangest thing Leslie had been called to the Manor for as he descended the grand staircase. And that he trusted her with his life and more importantly, his secrets; both were things she had never proved unworthy of. For some reason remembering that was more important than usual. 

All the progress he had made with Essie was quickly unravelled as at the sight of Alfred and Leslie she once more hid her face and became a scared stone in in his arms. Bruce’s attention however was solidly on Leslie gauging her reaction as she realised what he held. He knew Alfred would have relayed his instructions exactly as given so the fact there was a baby shouldn’t have come as a complete surprise. But as it had been for the past 24 hours the physical reality far outweighed the abstract.

“Leslie thank you for making it on such short notice” Bruce greeted her warmly. Never one to miss a chance to admonish him Leslie’s eyes rose from Essie to meet his own as she said  
“It’s hardly the first time”  
“I’m always grateful for your help” Bruce told her  
“Well then perhaps you could show it by following my instructions for once”  
Although he did his best not to show it Bruce was thankful for the delay his and Leslie’s well rehearsed and oft repeated doctor/patient routine provided. Anything to stave off the upcoming battle. 

It was however not to last as Leslie’s expression softened falling again to Essie.  
“And where did you find this one?” She asked stretching a hand out. Bruce took a step back before it could make contact.  
“Trust me” He told the confused doctor. Alfred gave a murmur of agreement  
“And I didn’t find her she was sent to me”  
“Sent to you? From where?”  
He could see the gears turning in Leslie’s mind as she no doubt thought of the dubious liaison's he’d had over the years. It was a fact of life he’d had to learn to live with that what Alfred knew, Leslie did. He asked so much of each them, he couldn’t deny them the confidence of the one other person who understood. He saved himself a repeat of the lecture she’d given him at 16 by saying  
“Another dimension”  
It was a testament to Leslie’s professionalism and perhaps indicative of the life she’d come to lead that her response to that was to raise an eyebrow before she turned to Alfred.  
“I don’t suppose I could trouble you for a coffee?”  
“It’s no trouble at all”  
“Good, I’ve got a feeling I’ll need one before the end of this story. I’m assuming there is a story?” Leslie turned back to Bruce.  
“A long one” He confirmed.

“Well lets hear it then” Leslie started off. Bruce fell into step beside her and relayed what he had a sneaking suspicion was going to become a familiar tale. 

He had to start a little further back than he had for Clark and Diana. Leslie had known him his entire life and had seen him at his worst and lowest moments and even though he knew full well the actions of Lord Batman were not and never would be his own; there was still an unmistakable sense of shame as he relayed them to Leslie. 

They found themselves seated in the study by the time the tale was done. Leslie, like Clark and Diana before her had remained silent throughout; only taking occasional sips from the coffee Alfred had presented her with. Then bites of the cinnamon scones he knew were her favourites and had no doubt begun preparing the moment he got off the phone with her. 

Bruce, after no small amount of coaxing fed Essie as he spoke. If an infant could look suspicious while suckling from a bottle she somehow found a way. He’d had to practise his glare, Essie it seemed found it innate. He couldn’t help but feel a little proud of that.

“You have these notes?” Leslie asked once he was finished speaking, resting her coffee cup back on it’s saucer.  
“Right here” Bruce handed her the file and there was silence once more as she read it. A delicate frown pulled at her features.  
“These measurements are correct?” She asked  
“I haven’t had the chance to check”  
“We’ll do that first then” All business Leslie set the file aside and reached into her doctor’s bag pulling out a plastic board with numbers down it’s length. She set it on the desk and with well practised hands attached two more pieces of plastic perpendicular to the board at either end.

She smiled at Essie, soft and gentle; the friendly face who had been through this routine with thousands of Gotham’s children. Bruce knew it wouldn’t be enough this time.

“One more thing” He said holding Essie back as Leslie reached for her. To her credit her expression remained fixed as she once more turned to him.  
“I need to stay in physical contact with her as much as possible and any contact from you needs to be minimised. Or there’ll be tears”  
Leslie gave a small chuckle  
“Do you know how many infant wellness checks I’ve preformed in my career? I gave you yours! A few tears are to be expected I think I can handle them”  
Neither Bruce nor Alfred laughed with her.  
“This is a rather, unique situation I’m afraid” Alfred said eventually looking at Essie who once more attempted to hide her face from him. Clinging to the belief that she could not be seen by what she could not see and that blocking the world out would make it go away.

“Unique how?” Leslie’s tone was no nonsense and Bruce thought on how best to describe that. Essie simply being afraid of strangers and suffering from separation anxiety wouldn’t cut it. All children went through such phases without lasting detriment or noticeable impact on their development. But without knowing exactly how she had been raised by his and Diana’s counterparts he couldn’t elaborate on anything. All he had to offer were theories and they weren’t pleasant.

“I can’t say for sure but I believe she’s been trained to fear everyone and thing except myself and Diana” He explained.  
Leslie’s mouth set in a firm line and Bruce knew in her mind another sin had been added to his counterparts tally. Bruce wasn’t so quick to cast stones, he was certain both the other Bruce and Diana had done what they thought best. That’s how they got in this mess in the first place, the Bat snarled.

“I’ll do what I can but for the most accurate assessment you know she’ll have to be put down” Leslie told him. Bruce nodded  
“Yes”  
“We’ll start simple, lay her on the board and stretch her legs fully”  
Bruce did as instructed. Essie startled at the motion of being lowered, something recent experience had told her led to being let go but stilled when she wasn’t. This was far from Leslie’s first rodeo and it seemed no sooner had Bruce laid Essie out the two pieces of plastic were slid into place at her head and feet and their corresponding number jotted down. She was back in his arms before she could protest.   
“Head circumference next” Leslie withdrew a tape measure from her bag and handed it across. Bruce propped Essie up on his lap to be able to wrap the tape as needed and though she whimpered at the unfamiliar contact, it was over before anything more could come of it.

“Now weight, this is where things might get difficult” Leslie reached once more into her bag of tricks and pulled out a cloth sling and an electronic hanging scale. She lay the sling on the table flat and Bruce understood. Unfortunately so did Essie. Her shrieks began before she even so much as made contact with the cloth and were joined by thrashing once he’d laid her on it. She kicked and fussed and wailed. Bruce had never been more grateful for the Manor’s isolation. He and Leslie tried to pull the corners of the sling together so it could be lifted and weighed but that proved impossible with Essie’s thrashing.

“She’ll hurt herself if we try to weigh her like this” Leslie yelled over the racket. Bruce was about to tell Alfred to fetch a sedative when the noise suddenly stopped. Panicked his attention snapped back to Essie who lay still and quiet her eyes glowing. Bruce whipped his gaze around until it landed on the figures in the door way. One was Diana, dressed in the clothes she had stolen during the Thanagarian invasion and the other was J’onn J’onzz. He appeared to be an elderly Chinese man but Bruce knew the disguise and even if he hadn’t the glowing orange eyes would have given him away.  
“Sorry I took so long” Diana apologised. She set the bag she carried on the ground and approached Leslie who was leant over Essie.  
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Doctor Thompkins, I’m Diana of Themyscira”  
“What...?” Leslie looked between the suddenly quiet Essie and the new arrivals. She had been the picture of professionalism throughout everything so far but this apparently was too much to take with a straight face.

The glow faded from Essie’s eyes and for a moment she remained still but then she smiled and stretched a hand out to tug on the stethoscope that hung from Leslie’s neck. She missed by a mile but giggled and tried again. An amazed silence settled across the room as Essie continued her game until she became aware of the various faces leaning over her. She greeted them with an open mouthed grin that lit up her tiny face.

“What did you do?” Bruce demanded rounding on J’onn who calmly regained his true form. Probably to remain extra stoic as he explained  
“I suppressed the non innate stress response she was experiencing. You will find her calm now”

Essie was more than calm, she babbled happily as she had earlier in his and Diana’s company and rather than shying away from the world as she had before she seemed enchanted by everything that surrounded her. Bruce watched in amazement as her eye caught on a paper weight and when her arm didn’t prove long enough to reach it as it hadn’t been able to reach him earlier her little face scrunched in determination as she attempted to wiggle on her back towards it. And when that didn’t work rather than break down and cry as she no doubt would have only an hour ago Essie, undeterred tried to roll over on to her stomach. She almost made it but Bruce picked her up before she could lest she roll off the table. She laughed and grinned up at him, completely yet unnaturally happy. 

He turned to J’onn  
“Stop it.”  
“I am not hurting her in any way” The Martian rebuffed calmly.  
“You’re brainwashing her” Bruce countered, his voice doing nothing to soften the contempt he felt for not only the concept but also it’s application.   
“If you would prefer she return to her conditioned state rather than remain as she naturally is I can un-reset her fear response” J’onn’s voice was monotone as always yet there was still no mistaking the icy undercurrent of anger in it.   
“Bruce” Diana said approaching him, Essie twisted in his arms with a wordless exclamation, that given time and encouragement might one day come to resemble ‘Mama’ but for now was simply happy noise.  
“Hello little sis...” Diana stopped halfway through the platitude and tilted her head before she finished with  
“Star. Hello Little Star”  
Bruce raised and eyebrow at the choice of nickname but supposed it was better to change it now before she got into the habit of referring to Essie as sister.  
“J’onn offered to pacify Essie and I accepted” Diana explained, crossing her arms. Both daring and expecting him to argue.  
“She’s not ‘pacified’ she’s under mind control” Bruce saw no reason to disappoint her.  
“It’s not permanent”  
“Good then undo it”  
“Actually if I may” Leslie stepped forward before another word could be said on the matter.  
“Things will go much smoother if she remains like this and we’ll be able to get a far more accurate assessment of where she is developmentally” She explained.  
In his arms Essie strained to be put back down, stretching her arms out to the paper weight and Bruce knew Leslie was right. But it still didn’t sit right with him. 

Bruce’s teeth itched as Essie stayed mostly still to be weighed, only getting grumpy when she discovered she was not being put back on the table to further inspect all the other interesting things upon it. 

He had to concede some ground to J’onn and Diana’s side when with all the measurements taken Leslie moved on to the real tests. Essie did not shy away from the doctor’s touch as she tested her reflexes and though she did not seem overly thrilled at the sudden noise of the study door being slammed to test her startle reflex she did not begin crying or react defensively at it. 

Just as she did not cry when Leslie laid her down in the centre of the room and told Bruce and Diana to call her. Essie turned her head at the sound of her name, just as she had earlier that morning but she didn’t seem to find it nearly as interesting as the new vantage point being on the floor provided her and continued to look around the room with a wonder only those her own age could possess.  
“Does she have a favourite toy or security object?” Leslie eventually asked  
Barely half an hour ago he and Diana were the security objects, Bruce almost said. Diana however nodded  
“A rattle, it’s upstairs”  
“Allow me” J’onn became transparent and floated up through the ceiling, giving Bruce an idea as to how he and Diana had made it not only on to the estate but into the Manor without setting anything off. Leslie watched the Martian go with a raised eyebrow before turning to him.  
“You’ve fallen in with a strange crowd”  
“I could’ve taken up Scientology instead” He told her  
“Heaven forbid” Leslie sniffed

J’onn came back down through the ceiling clutching the silver rattle Essie had been so enamoured with the previous day. He handed it across to Diana and in doing so removed the intangibility it had had so long as it was in his possession making it chime. Essie’s attention snapped to it like a moth to a flame. She stretched one hand out while using the other to make the Batclan sign for ‘here’. She was, Bruce realised in her own way, asking for it.

“May I?” He took the rattle and gave it an extra firm shake. Essie laughed and continued to signing with bubbly animation. Bruce crouched and made sure he had her full attention before shaking his head and making his own sign for ‘here’. Essie understood and as she had on the desk attempted to roll over. There was no one to stop her this time and she made it onto her stomach. Every adult in the room held their breath as she propped herself up on her hands and attempted to crawl. 

As attempts went it wasn’t bad, she managed to shuffle forward a little bit but couldn’t quite seem to figure out how her legs were supposed to aid in the endeavour no matter how much she moved them. So she relied on her arms half wiggling and half dragging herself onwards, not very graceful or efficient but no one could argue it was an improvement over lying in one spot and crying. 

Bruce was aware of of Diana holding her breath beside him and realised his own wasn’t very forthcoming as Essie cleared the gap between them. In fact he was so busy being amazed by the feat that it wasn’t until Essie began whining and tugging at his leg that he was spurned into giving her the rattle. She wasted no time in putting it to it’s intended use with gleeful intent. It was a joy to watch but Bruce couldn’t keep his attention from drifting to Leslie, or more accurately the notes she was jotting down. 

He waited until Diana scooped Essie from the floor with soft words of praise to stand and turn to her. It seemed important to wait, to stand before this as a united front as they had so many other things. This wasn’t a battle Bruce told himself, though he would have preferred one. Those he knew how to prepare for and face. Whatever Leslie had to say was something new.

“I expect you know what I have to say about her measurements?” She said becoming aware of the eyes on her without looking up.  
“She’s small” Bruce said. Leslie shot him a sharp look that clearly stated she was in no mood for nonsense or obstinacy from him.  
“She’s malnourished and you know it”  
Out of the corner of his eye Bruce saw Diana’s grip on Essie tighten ever so slightly  
“As her notes state she hasn’t started solid food we can only assume the same was true of the Mother. I want you to keep her on formula until she begins to show consistent weight gain and growth. Here.” Leslie continued pulling a piece of paper up and handing it across to Bruce. He briefly registered all the blank spots he would be expected to fill.

“What do we do with this?” Diana looked the paper over  
“Keep track of her growth, how much she weighs and her length. She's far below the average for her age” Leslie explained  
“Is that a problem? Or will it be a problem, when she’s older?” Diana said, sounding uncharacteristically uncertain. Bruce didn’t like it, he was so used to the confidence she wore like a cloak and the pride that kept her from admitting to weakness.  
“It’s too early to tell if any lasting damage has been done” Leslie said kindly “There are delays in her physical development, I can’t say for certain the cause of them but I also can’t see any reason why she shouldn’t be able to catch up now she’s in a more stable environment; she’s shown no sign of any mental delays” She continued  
“So she’ll be normal?” Diana asked  
“What passes for it around here, certainly” Leslie’s hands became a blur of activity as she repacked her Doctor’s bag. 

Essie made one more attempt on her stethoscope as it was packed, straining in Diana’s arms to reach it and pouting as the bag was clicked shut, sealing it away from her grasp for good. At the sound of that click Bruce turned to J’onn.  
“Alright it’s over, undo it”  
Though the Martians expression remained unchanged Bruce got the distinct impression he was angry at him as his eyes began to glow. No sooner had they started though than Alfred suddenly stepped forward with an uncharacteristically hurried.  
“May I...” He paused as all eyes fell on him and took a moment to compose himself before continuing  
“That is before Mr J’onzz undoes his work, may I hold her?”

Bruce didn’t hesitate to lift Essie from Diana’s arms and hand her across to the Butler  
“Mind her head” He instructed  
“It’s been many years Master Bruce but I haven’t forgotten” Alfred said without so much glancing away from Essie. She stared right back, sizing him up with her new found wonder.  
“There now” Alfred smiled at her “Isn’t it nice to be properly introduced?”  
Essie seemed to think so because her face broke into a smile and she stretched a hand out to his moustache, and laughed at the texture.

“She’s just like her Father” Leslie beamed approaching to tickle one tiny foot to even more merriment.  
“Like Bruce?” Diana and J’onn, though much less noticeably, glanced between the stern, stoic master of the house and the giggling child. Trying and failing to make the connection.  
“Oh yes, he was such a happy child” Leslie reminisced  
“There was hardly a morning where either myself or Mrs Wayne didn’t find him awake in his crib smiling up at us” Alfred continued.   
“Thomas always bragged he hardly ever cried” 

As Alfred and Leslie became wrapped in their own little world of memories and Essie, Diana turned to Bruce.  
“Don’t.” He said before she could speak  
“Don’t what?” She scowled “Don’t enjoy seeing my daughter happy? Don’t let her be the way she was meant to be. All J’onn did was make her the way she is without the fear”  
“But he had to rewire her brain to do it” Bruce countered  
“If that makes you uncomfortable” J’onn’s eyes once again began to glow. Diana moved to stop him but it was too late, his eyes regained their usual hue and both she and Bruce tensed waiting for Essie to start crying

She didn’t. 

Bruce made sure to add extra bite to his tone as he turned to J’onn and asked  
“What did you do?”  
“I merely retrained her thinking, the same principle as the cognitive behavioural approach you were intending sped up.” J’onn said pointedly ignoring it, just as he seemed determined to ignore Bruce’s preference for staying out of his head. He had been planning to reduce Essie’s reliance on himself and Diana using the therapy technique but J’onn had pre-empted that. Producing in seconds what it would have taken him months of reinforcement to achieve. 

Half of Bruce was annoyed at J’onn for reading his mind but the other was reluctantly impressed at the efficiency and the results.

The only sound Essie made was laughter as Alfred and Leslie continued to keep her entertained. Completely unaware of the conversation being held a few feet away and looking for all the world like a pair of besotted grandparents. 

And above them, holding court over the entire room hung the portrait of his parents. How Alfred and Leslie had ended up directly beneath it Bruce couldn’t say. They didn’t seem capable of taking their eyes off Essie long enough to deliberately choose a direction, they were so engrossed. Another pair of stand ins, he mused without irony. 

“I do not think she will see them that way” J’onn intoned. Bruce glared at him while mentally relaying how little he cared for the recent liberties he was taking with his telepathy. That unlike all his previous attempts received a response from the Martian, unfortunately it was a smile. Bruce thought he preferred J’onn before he had assimilated human nuance. 

He was right though, Essie would see only people who loved her. She would never understand how they weren’t the ones she was supposed to have, she would never know her life was not the one she was supposed to have. 

For her there would be no might have beens

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Hey guys, hope you all had a great holiday period and are enjoying the new year. I’m sorry this update took me so long to get out, I had a lot of ground to cover and really wanted to fit everything into one chapter rather than breaking it up. Trying to fit all the ideas I have for this fic actually into it is proving a challenge and I’ve never been one for consistent updates anyway ^_^; 

Story Notes

The roads not taken: In order Bruce’s pre Batman reminiscing features: Andrea Beaumont, from the film ‘Mask of the Phantasm’. The daughter of a Gotham business man who happened to get himself indebted to a crime boss who happened to employ a pre chemical bath Joker. Things as I’m sure you can imagine did not end well for Mr Beaumont and Andrea became the deadly Phantasm to avenge him. Her only appearance in the wider DCAU was in the Justice League episode ‘Epilogue’ where she was hired by Amanda Waller to kill an 8 year old Terry McGinnis’ parents but couldn’t go through with it. Zatara: Zatanna’s father, who trained Bruce in escape artistry as he was learning to become Batman. Yoru Sensei: one of Bruce’s Martial Art’s teachers.

All the world’s a stage: All we learn of Alfred’s background in the DCAU is that he used to work for the British Secret Service, allegedly he only held a desk job but will still privy to enough state secrets to be worth kidnapping in the BTAS episode ‘The Lion and the Unicorn’. But as he’s almost always had acting experience in every other incarnation of the character I’ve stuck with it here.

Dream world: In the BTAS episode ‘Perchance to Dream’ the Mad Hatter traps Bruce in a world where everything is perfect. His parents are alive, he’s engaged to Selina, someone else is Batman. He hates it and literally kills himself in order to escape. 

What’s in the bag: Thomas Wayne and Leslie Thompkins met at medical school in the DCAU and were such tight knit friends with another student, Matthew Thorne, brother of the crime boss Rupert Thorne, they earned the nickname ‘The Three Musketeers’ 

Light up: I knew that J’onn’s eyes would glow whenever he used his telepathy but I had to rewatch a few episodes to check if the person who’s mind he was in did too. Can’t have inaccuracies in my fanfiction based on a superhero cartoon! That would be ridiculous!

CBT: Stands for Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, a technique used in the treatment of many mental illnesses. Patients are exposed to fears in a controlled setting, slowly building up exposure while managing their responses and developing healthy coping mechanisms over harmful ones. So if you had a phobia of dogs, you might start by looking at a picture of a dog until that no longer scares you, then you could progress to being in an open space with a dog until that too no longer makes you panic, then maybe in the same room as a dog and so on until you’ve been successfully desensitised and dogs don’t bother you at all anymore.

And that’s all folks! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I’d love to hear your thoughts, positive, negative, I’m always open to feedback as long as it’s constructive.

Ari Out!


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